


Two Hearts One Soul

by Nothing_You_Can_Prove, Thecivillian



Series: The Pricefield Playlist [23]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Cage Fights, Childhood Trauma, F/F, Kidnapping, Martial Arts, pricefield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-01-15 16:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_You_Can_Prove/pseuds/Nothing_You_Can_Prove, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thecivillian/pseuds/Thecivillian
Summary: After moving away from Arcadia Bay, It takes Max a few weeks to realize her feelings for her childhood best friend, Defying her mom Max attempts a trip to go and see her, Only it takes a little longer than she expects, Meanwhile Chloe is made to regret her final farewell to Max when the unthinkable happens, Max goes missing. Pricefield





	1. Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone
> 
> Sorry, this is not Playing for Keeps, hit a bit of a roadblock on that one, (As well as RL stuff :/ ) But we ARE making progress.
> 
> In the meantime to give you something to read, Here is another Fic, Re-written from over on Fan-fic.net.
> 
> Releases will be weekly, and we have loads in reserve, This one goes a little dark, and as usual full of angst and tears, which we all crave.
> 
> Enjoy

**Escape**

**March 2008 - Seattle - Max**  
  
_'I have to see her,'_ Max thought as she finished picking the lock to her bedroom window with a pair of hairpins.  
  
She'd been practicing the technique for the past few weeks after her last failed attempt to get back to Arcadia Bay, back home, back to her Chloe. Biting her lip, she felt the lock give, stifling her victory cry. Honestly, she had lost count of her numerous escape efforts. The first few had been unambitious, easily foiled. Later, she'd tried and failed to hitchhike, stolen money from her parents to go by bus or cab, flat out run and slept rough - whatever crazy scheme came to mind, she tried. Every time, she somehow got caught, adding much harder obstacles for her next attempt. Well, not this time.  
  
The young girl took one last look at her room, or maybe prison cell was a better word to use. It was the dead of night, her alarm clock reading 01:25 A.M. A street light outside her window dimly illuminated her surroundings. There was very little left in her room, mostly confiscated as a punishment or because it had been used in an escape attempt at one time. Just the basics, making it feel even less like home than it already did. There was nothing tying her to Seattle, unlike Arcadia.

No precious memories. No happiness. No Chloe.  
  
Grabbing her duffel bag, she stuffed it out the window, letting it fall into the flower bed outside with a soft thud. Holding her breath, she listened out for telltale signs of movement. No point going through with this if she was going to get caught at the first hurdle. Hearing nothing, she swung her legs over the ledge, turning onto her stomach and lowering herself down. Feeling the small bushes with her feet, she figured it was only a short drop to the ground, so let herself fall. The impact made her stumble, landing on her backside in the damp grass.  
  
_'Ugh, that's all I need. A wet ass for my long ass trip...'_ she thought to herself, grinning as she got up. Stage one complete. Brushing herself off, she hoisted her duffle bag onto her shoulders and made her way down the street.  
  
It took her less than an hour to find the main highway, leading out of Seattle back to Arcadia. She walked on the grass verge running parallel to the road, trainers long soaked by mildew. There was a chill in the air, making her shiver despite the hoodie she'd remembered to wear this time - a lesson learned the hard way. Her need to make it to Chloe overrode any discomfort she was feeling now.  
  
As she trudged through the damp grass, she managed a smile at her daring escape; she'd already made it further than last time. Then, she'd made it to the bus depot only to find her father already waiting for her. Her stomach and heart re-lived the sinking feeling she felt that day, yet another failure to add to the ever-growing list. The following conversation had been less than pleasant...

* * *

_"She needs me, dad. And I need her," the young girl screamed at her father, tears running down her red blotchy face upon entering their home on the outskirts of Seattle._  
  
_He gave her a pitying look, finally letting go of her wrist and locking the door. She had noticed how haggard and stressed he'd seemed recently but was too preoccupied with her own problems to find out why. He probably wouldn't tell her anyway. "Max, I know how you feel, but..."_  
  
_His attempt to console her was shot down almost instantly by the emotional thirteen-year-old. "You don't know how I feel. I'll tell you, though. Even if you don't really care. I... feel like there's part of me missing." Instinctively, she hunched in on herself, wanting to cry all over again. She hated this._  
  
_Unsympathetic, her mom scoffed at what she probably considered a melodramatic remark. Max glared at her, despair turning to a newfound rage she'd never experienced before. Right now, she wanted to lash out, smash everything she could get her hands on, scream at the top of her lungs until her throat was red raw. Why didn't they understand? Why did nobody care? Why had they even moved in the first place?_

 ** _Why?!_**  
  
_"Silly schoolgirl crush..." her mother muttered, as she traced a finger around the rim of her half-full glass._  
  
_All the anger drain from the young teen, cheeks burning as the realization struck her. In that moment, something clicked into place, everything suddenly making sense. "I like... really like Chloe... wowzers..." she muttered to herself, not knowing whether to laugh or cry._

_A loud smash filled the room as pieces of broken glass and the contents spilled across the table, causing both Max and Ryan to stop and look over at Vanessa. "_ _We should've moved sooner..."_

* * *

The ensuing argument resulted in Max barricading herself in her room, curled up on her bed and crying herself to sleep as her mother screamed at her father. Soon after, the young teen found herself under constant supervision. Her phone was confiscated by her mother, she was escorted to and from class and pretty much confined to her room. Practically a prisoner in her own 'home' - and she used that in the loosest of terms for this instance.  
  
Her father had gone to stay with his brother on the opposite side of Seattle, leaving Max alone with her increasingly strict mother. The more the woman tried to police her, the more determined her daughter became to escape. Call it teen rebellion or whatever. She spent her time practicing lock picking, slowing preparing a duffel bag and using the school library to figure out how long it would take to walk back to Arcadia. Now, she was putting her plan into action. Her mom checked on her regularly every couple hours, so she had time to make good progress before alerting her.  
  
With no time to lose, she pushed forward. As she walked, Max reminisced over an old photo - her and Chloe's last Halloween together, both dressed as pirates - a giddy grin plastered to her face. She couldn't help but let out a giggle as she let the realization of her feelings warmed her from the inside out. No amount of cold could douse this flame.  
  
Folding the picture, she placed it in her back pocket while happily muttering, "I'm coming, Chloe."  
  
**THWAMP!**  
  
Next thing she knew, she was face down in the dirt. The back of her head throbbed from the force of the blow knocking her to the ground. Before she could react, Max felt a firm hand on her shoulder and a sharp pinch in her neck. The world darkened around the edges, vision blurred as she lost consciousness.

_'Chloe...'_

* * *

_She was in Chloe’s backyard, pushing the young blonde on the swing set. The daredevil girl had been trying to making it over the bar all summer, getting closer each time. Today, she had postponed her attempt in favor of chatting with Max, but the brunette’s mind was elsewhere – gone on autopilot as she pushed._  
  
_“Yo, Max. You listening?” she called out, sounding a little annoyed._  
  
_Shaking her head, Max focused back on reality. “What… sorry, I spaced out.”_  
  
_“When don’t you?” she replied wryly. “We’re supposed to be planning our future here. Very important stuff.”_  
  
_“Right, sorry,” the younger girl said, hanging her head at being called out. Around Chloe, she could just chill but maybe she needed to focus a little more._  
  
_“And quit apologizing. Just pay attention,” Chloe demanded, gently swinging her feet to gain some height._  
  
_Done pushing, Max took up a spot on the see-saw next to the swing, idly pushing back and forth on the balls of her feet. “What do you truly want to do when you grow up?”_  
  
_That made the blonde scoff as she came to a stop. “Max, I’m already grown up. What about you?”_  
  
_“Travel,” Max replied with a smile. “That would be awesome. Explore the world. Go far from here…”_  
  
_“Far from me? Thanks a lot, dude,” Chloe pouted playfully._  
  
_“Dude, you would totally come with me!” the brunette corrected swiftly. “I need a bodyguard for our adventures!”_  
  
_That made the older girl grin. “I would be like Lara Croft, except real. That would be majorly cool.”_  
  
_“Totally! We’d have cars and boats and planes all over for instant escape! And no adults could tell us what to do!” Max planned, her voice getting more excited with each word._  
  
_Nodding, Chloe looked just as thrilled by the prospect. “Count me in. What would you do while I was bodyguarding you?”_  
  
_“Maybe take pictures of our adventures,” Max replied hesitantly. “I would love to be a photographer. As if I ever could be…”_  
  
_“What are you talking about? Max, you are a photographer,” the other girl stated firmly. “Your pictures could be in a museum. Someday they will. I believe in you…”_  
  
_Her encouragement made the brunette smile again. “How can I fail with your faith behind me?”_  
  
_“Exactly!” Chloe exclaimed, leaning over to lightly nudging her friend’s shoulder. “You can’t, so don’t even doubt it. I’m like a good luck charm or something.”_  
  
_“Guess I’ll be keeping you around, then,” Max added with a stifled grin._  
  
_“Pfft, you’d better.” The blonde girl held out her hand, pinkie finger extended. “Pinkie promise?”_  
  
_Max linked her finger with Chloe’s, sealing the deal. “Pinkie promise.”_

* * *

The memory faded away in a swirling darkness, leaving her with nothing but harsh words from another time. **_“_** ** _You’re dead to me! Just fuck off! I don’t NEED you!”_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments etc welcome as always
> 
> Till next week
> 
> Peace out


	2. The Lion and the Lamb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two
> 
> Enjoy.......

**The Lion and the Lamb**

At the loud roar of a large crowd, Max felt herself being shoved along. She stumbled, trying to keep her balance as her body slowly recovered from whatever was now running through her system. When she tried to look around, she realized there was a cloth bag over her head, making her blind. Reaching up to remove it, she felt a pair of strong hands force her arms back down.  
  
Her head pounded, the cheering growing louder with each step. Where the hell was she? And why? Fear gripped at her heart, mind racing at an alarming rate. "Lemme go! Where am I?" The demand fell on deaf ears, getting a firm shove forward in response. **"LEMME GO! I WANNA GO HOME!"** she insisted with more force, terrified.  
  
A hand slapped against her back, making her lose her balance. Arms outstretched, she crashed to the dusty floor, making the crowd cheer louder. Scrambling to right herself, she tugged the musty bag off her head. It dropped to the floor as she shielded her eyes from the bright floodlights. The intense beams blinded her for a few seconds. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the harsh light, still drugged up. She had just enough time to register a stocky man wearing what looked like a black suit. Quickly, he strode over to her, arms raised.  
  
The next few moments were a blur for the young girl. Fueled by fear and adrenaline, she scrambled out of the way of the first and second blow, barely missing her face. Each time, the crowd jeered and booed in disappointment. Desperate, she threw herself out of the way of another strike, the impact kicking up a cloud of dust. Eyes stinging, she blinked repeatedly and scrambled to her feet, only to feel a fist connect with her face.  
  
Pain shot through her skull like fire as she fell back onto the dusty floor once more. Her vision was blurred with blood as she tried to crawl away from her assailant. A boot connected with her stomach, winding her. Gasping for breath, she staggered to her feet. A hand grabbed hold of her wrist, yanking her forward straight into a gut punch. Doubling over, she slumped to the floor struggling to breathe.  
  
Trying to protect herself, Max curled up into a ball as a kick aimed at her face instead hit the arm protecting her head. A boot stomped down on her side, the full force of her situation dawning on her.  _'I'm going to die...'_

She tried screaming, pleading, anything, but the pain overrode everything. The voices became distant and muffled - like she was slowly being submerged underwater, drowning.  
  
Her last thought was of her blonde-haired friend's smile fading into darkness.  _'Chloe... help me...'_

* * *

 _It was lunchtime at school, all the kids rushing outside to play. Chloe had gone to the bathroom, promising to catch up with her. Not wanting to waste time, Max headed outside to take some pictures. There was a cute little tabby cat that turned up most lunchtimes and she’d managed to convince her parents to let her bring her camera to school to snap a picture._  
  
_Approaching the bushes, she waited until the cat appeared. It mewed at her, brushing around her legs. “Hey there, kitty. I’m the pawparazzi here to take a photo. Hope you don’t mind.”_  
  
_On cue, the cat shuffled back, almost seeming to pose. Smiling, she lined up the shot. The resulting picture was pretty cute, the cat lying on its back, fluffy belly exposed and bright green eyes staring back at her adoringly._  
  
_“What do you think?” Max asked, offering the photo to the cat, who sniffed it and purred loudly. “I thought so too.”_  
  
_Without warning, the cat tensed and darted back off into the bushes as a taunting voice called out. “Whatcha got there?”_  
  
_Swallowing, Max stood and turned to see a blue-eyed blonde boy around her age shadowed by two others. “M-my camera…”_  
  
_His eyes moved down then back up to her face. “Give it to me.”_  
  
_“No.” Max clutched onto her camera defensively, holding it close. Her parents had told her to only let herself and Chloe use it, no-one else._  
  
_“Oh, did that sound like a choice? Cuz it wasn’t,” the boy replied, taking a step towards her, hand outstretched._  
  
_Just as she was about to panic, a familiar voice entered the fray. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, jerk?”_  
  
_The main boy swiveled around, met with a thoroughly pissed off Chloe Price. She stared him down, fists clenched ready for a fight. “Gladly. You volunteering?”_  
  
_“You bet I am,” she challenged. Max knew from experience that she was a scrapper._  
  
_The arrogant boy huffed, turning to face Chloe and lunged forward. She sidestepped him, watching him stumble before tackling him to the ground. He yelped as his body hit the ground and she jammed his arm behind his back._  
  
_“Not so smug now, are you?” Chloe spat, wrenching his arm._  
  
_“Get the hell off me!” he shouted, struggling against her. Figuring he’d had enough, she let go of his arm and got off him. Scrambling to his feet, he hurried away with his tail between his legs. “You’ll be sorry you ever did that.”_  
  
_“Yeah? Well, have fun telling people a girl beat your ass down!” Chloe shouted back after him before turning to Max. “Honestly, you’re like a bully magnet. I leave you alone f-”_  
  
_The brunette shoved her camera and photo back in her bag, grabbing onto the blonde girl in a tight hug. “Chloe, I was so scared.”_  
  
_Taken aback for a split second, she returned the hug. “You’re okay now, Max. He’s gone and I doubt he’ll come back for a while_ , _if he’s smart… which is debatable.”_  
  
_Pulling back, the brunette worried her lip with her teeth. “What if he tells someone and you get in trouble?”_  
  
_That thought seemed to amuse Chloe. “Like I care. Besides, it was all worth it. Can’t let anyone bully my friend.” She lightly ruffled Max’s hair, smiling. “I’ll always protect you, so don’t cry.”_

* * *

The memory swirled into nothing, replaced by another more recent one, an early escape attempt.

* * *

 _“Let go of me!” Max demanded as she managed to struggle out of her mom’s grip, body shaking with rage. “This is not home. I don’t want to be here. Especially not with you!”_  
  
_Her mom’s face darkened and she felt a sharp pain in her cheek. “I’ve had enough of this, Maxine! Whether you like it or not, Seattle is home now. Go to your room. I don’t want to hear from you again this evening.”_  
  
_Face stinging from where her mom slapped her, Max ran upstairs and slammed her door shut. She dove on her bed, curling up into a ball under the covers as she sobbed. That was the first time she had ever been hit before… and it hurt. Not just physically, either._  
  
_More than ever, she wished Chloe was here. The blonde always protected her, held her when she cried, made her laugh. Her heart ached with loss, hugging herself until the tears ran dry. Whatever happened, she would find a way back to her Chloe… even if it took forever._

* * *

 **Arcadia Bay, March 2008**  
  
_"Get out. Go on. Just fuck off and leave me alone!" Chloe stood on the outside, as she watched an angry version of herself lash out at the teary-eyed brunette._  
  
_"Chloe, I don't..." Max didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence._  
  
_"You're dead to me! Just fuck off! I don't NEED you!" she screamed, bitter and enraged. As hard as Max tried to reason with her, she wouldn't listen. The brunette was hurt, no crushed by those cruel words, not that Chloe seemed to care. Rage bypassed all logical thought._  
  
"I'm sorry, Max. I didn't mean it. Please... come back." Tears of regret rolled down Chloe's cheeks as the scene replayed over and over in her mind, each time ending in Max running away as fast as she could out of the door. She sobbed as the door slammed shut for the umpteenth time. Right now, she was huddled under her blanket, guilt flooding her body. She hadn't meant any of that, not a single word. Unfortunately, she couldn't ever take them back, as much as she wanted to.  
  
In a fit of rage soon after Max left, she had torn down all the posters and pictures in her room, only leaving bits of blue tac - a telltale sign that something had once hung there. Everything had been shoved in a box, stashed in the bottom of her closet.  
  
She was vaguely aware of the real door to her room opening, her mother stepping inside. "Chloe, have you... heard from Max?"  
  
The young blonde didn't move, sinking further into her blanket cocoon. "Not since she left for Seattle, since I told her to... go."  
  
Sighing, Joyce sat down on the bed, stroking her daughter's head through the blanket. "She knows you didn't mean it, Chloe. Look, if you hear from her, let me know, okay?"  
  
Worried by the ominous tone, Chloe poked her head out. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. Tucking hair behind her ear, she sniffled and frowned. "Mom, what's going on?"  
  
The older woman's face dropped, blue eyes watery. "Chloe... Max is missing."

* * *

 **April 2008**  
  
Chloe woke with a start, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. Her pillow had a large wet patch on it from where she had been crying. Sitting up, she wiped her face trying to compose herself. The drizzly morning perfectly reflected her mood as she dragged herself out of bed. Getting dressed, not giving her hair much thought after hacking it off in anger a few days previous, she ventured downstairs in search of food. Finding the house empty, she grabbed a pop-tart and shoved it in the toaster. A post-it note on the fridge informed her that her mom had been called into work early. After William died, she'd been working a lot, all hours of the week just to make ends meet. Grabbing her breakfast, she nibbled on it as she wandered around town towards the bus depot.  
  
It'd been a whole month since Max went missing. Apparently, she and Vanessa had a major argument two weeks into the move. As a result, Ryan moved out and the very next day, the brunette disappeared without a trace. Ever since then, the young blonde had made the trek to the depot, asking around... and every day she went home disappointed, frustrated and angry. Today was shaping up to be the same.  
  
After spending most of her day watching a sea of faces go to and from the depo, Chloe made the slow walk home. Taking a shortcut through the same alleyway she always used, she played the last time she'd seen her friend over and over in her head.  
  
"How... could... I... be... so... STUPID!!!" she screamed through gritted teeth, kicking a nearby trash can relentlessly with each word.  
  
"I think you got it," a deep, gruff voice called out from behind her. Turning, she saw a man in his early forties, wearing blue jeans and a shirt. His black hair was cut short, a trimmed mustache hugging his upper lip.  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled, picking the trash can up and wiping her face.  
  
"I'm sure I can convince it not to sue you," the man chuckled, Chloe actually managing a smile. "Bottling everything isn't healthy. If you need something to wail on, I might have just the thing." He turned, entering in the door behind him.  
  
Curious, her eyes wandered up to the sign above 'Arcadia Gym'. As she turned to leave, she noticed the battered trash can. It had felt kinda nice to just lash out at something. She still felt angry, but less so. Shrugging, she stepped inside the building.  
  
It was almost deserted inside the gym, only one other person working out on a treadmill. The man who invited her inside, David, turned out to run the place. He showed Chloe around, finishing the quick tour at a large, brown punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Leaving her alone with her emotions and a willing target, he went to his office.  
  
Cautiously, she gave the bag a kick, watching it swing back and forth. On the return swing, she kicked it harder, repeating the process. With each kick, she could feel guilt and anger gradually consume her, eyes welling. The dam on her emotions crumbled as she added punches, letting the last two months of pain erupt in a barrage of fury. Sleepless nights, the sense of betrayal, regret at all the things she did and more importantly  _didn't_ say...

She missed her shy, awkward brunette. So. Damn. MUCH!

“Give her back. Give her back. GIVE HER BACK TO ME!” the blonde screamed as she crumpled onto a nearby crash mat, exhausted as she sobbed. “Come back, Max.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time
> 
> Peace out


	3. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here is chapter 3
> 
> See you at the end

**Trapped**

Max woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. Immediately, she regretted it as a dull pain shot through her stomach. "Fuck..." she inhaled sharply, wincing.

When she felt brave enough, she tried to move her arm to her stomach, finding it restricted by a sling. It was wrapped in sports tape, from her hand all the way up to her elbow. Lifting her top to examine her stomach, her eyes widened at the sight of several large purple bruises. That's when reality hit her.

"It... wasn't a dream," she sobbed, curling up on herself and wincing. "I wanna go home."

"Look, Rach, you know how this works. She gets a month, then they throw her to the wolves again... I know you care. I just don't want to see a repeat of Toni," a hushed voice filled with worry said from outside the room.

Footsteps approached, her first instinct to hide. Gently propping herself up, she scanned the small square room. There were two sleeping bags on the other side of the room, pushed together. The doorway had an old bed sheet instead of a door, the rusted hinges still intact. Dim light filtered through the cracks at the side and bottom of the sheet. Tea light candles were scattered around the edge of the room, illuminating crude graffiti. A digital wall clock told her it was 05:22 A.M, almost four hours since she first departed from her home. Her mom would probably have noticed her missing by now. Then, she spotted her hoodie, neatly folded next to her.

 _'Odd,'_ she thought, given the circumstances.

Two silhouettes appeared in front of the sheet covered doorway. Max felt her heart rate double as she pulled the thin blanket up to her chin, shaking as she let out a pathetic whimper. A hand reached up to pull the makeshift cover aside.

"Diana, I think she's awake. Look let me do the talking, please. No offense, but you can come over a little... harsh. She's gonna be terrified as it is," a voice spoke out in a caring tone.

The hand pulled back the sheet, letting in a dim light from the hallway. Blinking a few times, Max's eyes slowly adjusted to the shift in light intensity. A girl around her age stepped into the room, a pretty soft face, shoulder length blonde hair and hazel eyes filled with sympathy. Her figure was slim, covered by a black sports bra, red flannel shirt, and knee-length black pants.

The blonde gave her a reassuring smile, kneeling down beside her. "Hi, my name's Rachel, but please call me Rach. How're you feeling?"

Honestly, she felt like shit, worse than she had felt in her life. She was too scared to say that, however. The words got caught in her throat; fear stunned her into silence. When Rachel reached over to her bandaged arm, she recoiled, wide-eyed.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. I won't hurt you, promise," the blonde said softly, hand extended waiting for Max to close the remaining distance when she was ready.

Feeling more at ease, she allowed herself to relax and cautiously offered her shaking injured arm. Rachel gently took hold of it, inspecting the damage. Her touch was light.

"What's your name?" she asked, watching Max's eyes flick over to the door. The blonde answered her unspoken question with a smile. "Oh, that's my friend, Diana. D, you can come in now.  IThink she might be a little tougher than you gave her credit for."

A short-haired spiky redhead entered the room, slightly older than the both of them, expression mildly irritated. She wore a similar outfit to Rachel, the flannel shirt blue instead.

"Your friend," she stated in a clipped tone, unimpressed.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean, D. I'm trying not to embarrass the poor girl, but fine... GIRLFRIEND."

Max felt herself blush, letting out a small giggle. Not something she had been expecting to do given the situation she'd found herself in.

"Well, that's a good sign. We made her laugh," Diana chuckled, kneeling beside Rachel.

Both girls turned to her, expectant. It was then Max suddenly remembered she had been asked a question. "Uh, Max. My name's Max," she replied, clenching her good hand to stop it from shaking.

Gently, Rachel raised Max's injured arm out of the sling, keeping her voice soft. "Short for Maxine, I guess. Can you make a fist?"

"Max. Never Maxine," she replied meekly, clenching her fist and wincing as she gave her wrist experimental movements. _'Doesn't hurt too badly. Just feels stiff.'_

"Duly noted." The blonde smiled at the correction. "Can you bend your arm for me?"

Again, Max complied, flexing her arm and moving her shoulder, letting out a sharp wince. "Feels sore, but I guess it could've been worse," she muttered as Rachel carefully put her arm back in the sling.

"Well, I'm fairly sure nothing's broken. Small miracles." The blonde tucked some of Max's hair behind her ear. "That eye of yours doesn't look too bad either, considering," she continued, grabbing a paper plate with a sandwich, two pills - pink and white - and a red plastic cup of water.

Max looked at the offering, eyes turning to the two girls with a frown. After what had happened, she was more than a little skeptical about trusting strangers.

"I know it's not exactly fine cuisine, a meat paste sandwich, but it's better than going hungry. And those..." she tilted the plate, letting the two pills roll. "One's a normal painkiller. Other's just an anti-inflammatory, to help with the swelling. Nothing sinister."

Taking a bite, Max grimaced at the slightly stale bread. "Where... what is this place?"

The other two girls shared a look of confliction, expression pained before they turned back to her with a sigh. "Eat that and take those," Rachel replied, ignoring the question and pointing to the pills. "And get some sleep. I'll explain everything later. Down here, you're safe. So, try to relax and sleep." She gently rubbed Max's shoulder, a soft smile on her lips.

Despite the gentleness, the young brunette picked up on the sadness in their eyes. A dark sense of dread overwhelmed her, a shiver running down her spine as she looked at the half-eaten sandwich. Suddenly, she lost her appetite.

"It... it's not good, is it?" she muttered in a soft sob, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Before she could register it, the two other girls had wrapped an arm around her in a hug. Max leaned into the more talkative blonde, crying until she couldn't anymore. She felt Rachel take a deep breath before letting out a drawn-out sigh. "It could be a lot worse, but... no, it's not good."

"Max," she felt everyone tense up as Diana called out to her. Lifting her head, she saw the redhead giving Rachel a stern glance, turning back to her with a pained smile. "This might sound scary but..."

"D," Rachel interrupted, only to be silenced by a raised hand.

"I know what you're going to say, Rach, but if she expects the worst... hopefully, the reality won't be much of a shock." As she spoke, Diana put her free hand on Max's uninjured one, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not saying this to scare you, but it will. This place will really mess with your head if you let it. So, to keep you, well you... Imagine the absolute worst. The most terrifying thing you can imagine, besides being dead, of course. Depending on how dark you go, the truth should be... bearable," she finished with an apologetic smile.

Max bit her lip, wondering just what she had gotten herself into. For the first time since moving to Seattle, she actually wanted to be back in her prison of a room. Compared to here, that was nothing... and she suspected that this was only the beginning of her ordeal.

* * *

_Lights, blinding. A raucous crowd screaming, setting her ears and mind ablaze. Jeering, cheering, booing, laughing… She couldn’t make out what they were saying, a cacophony of voices._

_Pain, so much pain all over her body… places she didn’t even know could hurt. The seemingly never-ending searing ache enveloped her. Mind, body and soul. Never had she felt something this intense. The worst kind._

_With each hit, her consciousness slowly faded away. Sounds blurred, vision darkened around the edges. It almost felt like she had left her battered body, the blows hardly even registering anymore._

_In that moment, she wanted to die. To end it all, almost more than anything. Only one thing hurt her more… knowing that she would never see Chloe Price again._

_That was a fate worse than death._

* * *

Max woke with a start, her body clammy with sweat. Sitting up, a dull ache reminded her of the unpleasant beating from the night before. The floor was cold on her bare feet as she stood, performing an array of small test stretches to ascertain how bad everything felt. Her arm was still stiff but aside from that, she could move just fine. Picking up her hoodie, she managed to get it over her head, leaving her injured arm out of the sleeve. Unable to locate her trainers, she took a better look at the room she'd slept in.

 **'Think happy thoughts'** was scrawled on the wall in red spray paint, along with several profanities that made the young girl blush. The clock on the wall now displayed 13:46 P.M.

 _'At least I'm allowed to sleep here,'_ she thought with an amused humph. The two sleeping bags from before were disheveled, someone recently sleeping in them. _'Diana and Rachel,'_ she concluded, continuing her search.

There wasn't much else, save for a round shiny surface fixed near the doorway at head height. Moving closer, she saw her reflection: a deep black bruise on her left eye, a small plaster on her cheekbone and a swollen split lip. She gave the bruise a poke, wincing.

Casting her mind back, she recalled maybe the third or fourth time her mom caught her trying to run away after the move to Seattle. _'Can't say it's my first black eye...'_

Approaching the doorway, she could hear chattering voices and laughter from down the hall. Cautiously, she poked her head out of the door, looking down one side of the corridor. The walls were painted an off-white, black tiled flooring. LED ceiling spotlights illuminated the area, revealing various scribbles and graffiti. She could see several rooms, none of which had doors, and a larger one at the end cast in darkness. On the other side, where the voices were coming from, there were more rooms, two of which had doors.

The room at the end was lit up, filled with plastic garden furniture. She noticed a dark-haired girl down the corridor, hair tied back into a ponytail. She wore clothing similar to Rachel and Diana without the flannel shirt. She turned to someone out of sight, pointing and muttering. To avoid the attention, Max tucked herself behind the doorframe, peeking up the hallway. The voices stopped, replaced by the sound of feet slapping against tiles.

"Max," Rachel called out to her, jogging up to her door. "How'd ya sleep?"

The familiar voice and sight calmed her nerves. "Okay, I guess," she replied, trying to sound less scared than she felt.

Rachel gathered Max's hands in hers. "I know it's scary, but you have nothing to worry about down here. Not from us lot, anyway. C'mon, I'll show you around before we get to the bullshit." The blonde tugged her along, coming to a stop at the two-doored rooms. "First, here's the bathroom and showers. Go get yourself cleaned up and I'll grab some fresh threads for you. And don't worry, no-one's gonna bother you, except maybe D. She's harmless, though." Smiling, she gave the brunette a gentle nudge towards the bathroom, disappearing into the big room at the end.

After using the bathroom, Max crossed the hall to the shower room, shutting the door behind her. It was no bigger than the room she'd slept in, two showers on either side with flimsy curtains. A wooden bench was bolted to the floor near the door, alongside a pair of small metal wash basins - each with their own round, metallic mirror. White tiles ran from floor to ceiling, two small spot lamps providing just enough light to see.

 _'This is kinda what I imagine a prison feels like...'_ With that thought, she crossed the room to a shower stall, wriggling out of her hoodie.

Carefully, she took her arm out of the sling and undid the sports tape. Her brow furrowed as she inspected the dark blue and black bruising around her wrist, carrying on along pale, freckled skin. It looked alien to her like this. A shiver ran down her spine as a flash of reminder played across her mind. Shaking the brutal image from her mind, she stripped down and turned the water on, waiting. After a moment, she realized there was no hot water.

"Guess they don't want me to spend forever in the shower," she mumbled, shivering as the cold water hit her. Grabbing a small sliver of soap, she began washing herself off. Sure, it was freezing but it did feel kinda nice.

"Max, you in here?" Rachel called out as she burst into the room, catching Max halfway out of the shower reaching for her dirty clothes.

Panicked, the young brunette dashed behind the curtain again, blushing. The timing could not have been worse.

She heard a soft giggle, the blonde putting the fresh clothes on the bench then handing her a towel. "Chill out, Max. I don't bite. Besides, seen it all before. Privacy ain't a luxury we really have down here."

Taking it, Max wrapped the towel around herself as she stepped out from behind the shower curtain. She started drying herself off, wincing when she brushed against her injuries.

"Here, lemme help," Rachel offered, taking part of the towel. Max blushed lightly as the blonde helped pat her down, stopping occasionally to inspect the impressive bruises. "You're tougher than you look, you know," she muttered with an appraising tone, drying her hair - elicited a satisfied moan from the brunette. That made her chuckle. "Never done this before?" When Max shook her head, she shrugged. "Well, I guess that's foster homes for ya."

"I'm not an orphan, Rach," Max corrected, watching the blonde's expression fall, sympathetic hazel eyes.

A sense of dread overwhelmed her, everything shattering before her eyes. Her dreams, family, friends, Chloe... it all suddenly seemed impossibly far away. Her legs gave out under her, Rachel managing to catch and walk her over to the bench before she hit the ground.

"I... I'm never getting out of here... am I?" she struggled between sobs, shaking.

On the verge of tears herself, Rachel wrapped the towel around her and pulled her into a hug, gently rocking. "I'm so, so sorry, Max. So sorry..."

Her fists clenched, ignoring the protests from her injured hand. Blood boiling, breathing rate increasing, she felt her anguish transform into a slowly building rage. Without warning, she flung herself across the room and punched the metal mirror with all her might. Pain shot through her arm, only adding fuel to the fire.

"All I wanted... all I fucking wanted was to see Chloe! I... just... wanted... to... see... Chloe!" she screamed, each word punctuated with a hit, leaving dents and bloody smears in the metal.

* * *

_It had been several days since William’s funeral, a tough time for all involved. The day after had been the worst, knowing that he definitely wasn’t coming back. It really hit home, more than before. A funeral was so… final. William had such a huge presence and it really showed in his absence. Joyce had been a real trooper, holding it together for Chloe’s sake as best she could. She’d cried a lot behind closed doors, though. As for the blonde girl, losing her father had been a real kick in the teeth._

_Max had spent as much time as possible with her over the past few days, both needing the comfort. William had been an important part of the brunette’s life, so she felt the loss. That first day, they hadn’t said a word to one another. They didn’t need to. As time passed, it got a little better, the pain lessening just a fraction. Neither of them was really ready to talk about William but at least they’d cried all their tears more or less._

_Despite the grief, they had managed to joke around a little. Honestly, it helped. Sure, it would take a long time to return to how things used to be, or as close as they would get now, but very slowly they were on the mend. Better than crying non-stop for hours, getting a headache, anyway. Maybe in a few months, they would be able to discuss William properly. For now, there were a lot of feelings to sort through solo._

_Dropping her school bag off at home and quickly changing, Max thundered downstairs towards the door._

_"Max hun,” her mom called out to her softly as she opened the door, “before you go out, can I have a word, please?"_

_Groaning, the young girl closed the door again. "So close to freedom, yet so far…" she mumbled playfully._

_"Relax Max, I won't keep you long," Vanessa chuckled at her daughter’s overdramatic_ _statement._

_“It’s okay, mom. I just promised Chloe I’d be right over after school,” Max revealed, hoping this wouldn’t take too long. Her friend wasn’t known for her patience at the best of times._

_"Anything nice planned?" her mom asked, sounding kinda tired; Max put that down to the strain of the past few days._

_She shrugged, not really having anything specific planned. "Just chilling out."_

_"Good, very... cool." Vanessa smiled, seeming a little distracted. "I, er, we’ve got some good news... and bad news I'm afraid.”_

_"More bad news…" Max muttered. After William, she wasn’t sure how much bad news she could take. There was a limit and her mind kept jumping to the worst conclusion._

_“It’s nothing like that, Max,” her mom reassured, easing her worries. “I… miss William, too…” Expression softening, she sighed. “Anyway, the good news – your father got offered a new job, better money and fewer hours.”_

_"That's great," Max beamed excitedly. "You and dad will get more time together. You've both been working so much you never see each other."_

_“That’s the idea, hun,” her mom replied, suddenly looking very hesitant. “It’s too good an opportunity to pass up, a once in a lifetime offer…”_

_The young brunette bit her lip, sensing a flaw in the ‘too good to be true’ announcement. “Mom, you’re scaring me… what’s the but?”_

_Vanessa gave her a pained smile as she broke the bad news. "It... It's in Seattle."_

_It took a few moments for the implications to settle. “Wait… we’re MOVING?”_

_"Next week," Vanessa replied weakly, not meeting her daughter’s gaze._

_"Wha... no, I don't wanna leave... Chloe, she's only just buried her father. She needs me. I can't go," Max protested, refusing to accept it. This couldn’t have come at a worse time._

_"Max..." her mom began, getting cut off immediately._

_Max shook her head, not wanting to hear any justifications or reassurances. "NO! I don't wanna go. What about me, my life, my friends?"_

_Sighing, Vanessa took a tentative step closer to her, desperate to make her see reason. “Max, you'll make new friends. And there will be so many opportunities for new pictures. It's such a big city.”_

_"No... I won't go. I don't want to!" she shouted, storming out of the house before her mother could stop her._

_Not looking back, Max flat out sprinted to the Price residence, sobbing the whole way. Just the thought of leaving hurt. She was out of breath when she got to the front door, banging on it. It opened, revealing a haggard Joyce._

_Giving the young brunette a sympathetic smile, she enveloped the tearful teenager in a firm hug. Obviously, she already knew. "It's going to be okay, Max."_

_Max buried her head in the older woman’s shoulder, shaking her head. "I don't want to leave here, leave Chloe."_

_They stayed like that for some time, Joyce comforting her as best she could. “Do you want me to tell her?” she offered sympathetically._

_"No," Max mumbled, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "I should be the one to tell her."_

_After a few moments, she worked up the courage to head upstairs to Chloe’s room. Giving the door a soft knock, she poked her head into the room. The blonde offered her a gentle smile – a mask to hide her own pain – soon turning into a worried frown._

_“Max, what’s wrong? Someone pick on you at school again?”_

_Shaking her head, Max stood in the doorway, fighting back tears. “Nothing like that. Chloe, I… I don’t… wanna do this…”_

_“Do what? Max, what’s happening?” Chloe pressed, really concerned now._

_“Chloe, we’re… I have to move away… to_ _Seattle,” she managed, voice trembling._

_"You're leaving me, too," the blonde concluded, face cycling through so many emotions – fear, anger, betrayal, sadness, bitterness resentment…_

_"I don't want to go, Chloe," Max sobbed, taking a step towards the older girl. She needed Chloe to understand that she didn’t want this either… but she had no choice._

_"Get out. Go on. Just fuck off and leave me alone!" Chloe lashed out at the teary-eyed_ _brunette._

_"Chloe, I don't..." Max didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence._

_"You're dead to me! Just fuck off! I don't NEED you!" Chloe screamed bitter and enraged. Rage bypassing all logical thought._

_The sudden outburst caused the brunette to back off. She had never seen Chloe so angry before, or anyone for that matter. What Max was feeling right now was beyond anything she had ever experienced; she felt winded. Turning on her heel, she sprinted out of the house sobbing, completely ignoring Joyce’s calls._

_This wasn’t fair. None of it. All she wanted was to stay._

_She burst into her house, not even bothering to close the door behind her, storming upstairs to her bedroom. Yanking the door open, she slammed it and dove under her covers. Right now, she wanted to disappear into nothing, leave the pain behind. Her fingers dug into her arms, leaving marks._

_Vaguely, she registered a knock, the creak of hinges, footsteps, her mother’s voice. “Max, honey, what’s wrong?”_

_“Chloe hates me,” Max cried, the words stabbing at her heart._

_“Max, that’s not true. And you know it,” her mom replied soothingly._

_Anger filled her up, from the tips of her toes to her head. Slowly, she crawled out of her blanket cocoon, scowling. "She meant it, mom. She hates me... And it's all your fault,” she spat, burying her head back into her pillow. “Just leave me alone…"_

_"Max... we can work…" her mother started, cut off before she had the chance to finish._

_"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Max yelled, hands balling into fists, teeth gritting. She had never felt so furious as she did now._

_"Maxine Caulfield, please don't talk to me like that.” Her mom’s voice was stern, at her limit._

_"LEAVE!" Max screamed, launching one of her pillows blindly across the room towards the door. "I HATE YOU!”_

* * *

Her knuckles split open, not stopping her angry rampage. All she could see and hear was her mother scoffing about her feelings for Chloe. When she felt someone come from behind, trying to restrain her, she lashed out with a punch square to the jaw.

Seeing red, she jumped on the person she just knocked down, punching down with each word. "It's all your fault, mom. I fucking hate you. I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!

She felt a pair of strong arms pull her into a hug as she tried to continue her assault. "Shhh. It's okay. It's okay, Max."

That voice, calm and reassuring, drained her of the rage as quickly as it flared up. Collapsing on top of the person she had just been wailing on, she let out a deep sob as her hand throbbed. "It's not fair... I never wanted this..."

"What the hell is going on?!" Diana shouted as she burst into the shower room, followed by several other girls. "What the fuck?" she muttered under her breath, face hardening as she stomped over to the two girls collapsed in a pile on the floor.

Rachel, seeing her angry concern, held up a hand. "It's okay, D. I'm fine. Look, can you get rid of that lot?" she asked, signaling back to the crowd of girls muttering in the doorway. They didn't need an audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bunch of feels for you all.
> 
> Till next time
> 
> Peace out


	4. Prison for a Prison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just what has our young Brunette got herself into?

**Prison for a Prison**

Max was barely aware of being carried back to her room and put on her sleeping bag until her hand started stinging - recoiling on instinct. "Fuck..."

It was then she noticed Diana, knelt down with a wet cloth and a bowl of water. "Sorry, I know it stings, but we need to get you cleaned up." She sounded worried, but there was also a flicker of annoyance.

The next time she took Max's hand, the brunette winced but didn't pull away. "Where's Rach?"

"Cleaning up your mess," the redhead replied flatly, eyes focused on her task.

Frowning, the shower room brawl played on the younger girl’s mind. "Shit, I need to apologize," she mumbled, instantly forced back down when she tried to get up.

"Sit. You can apologize AFTER I sort this mess out," Diana snapped, gesturing to her now bloody hands.

Blue eyes wandered down, nausea surging through her body as she examined her messed up hands - the whites of her knuckles showing through the skin.

Max's chin was pulled up to meet the redhead's stern gaze. "Hey, don't look at it."

Inhaling deeply, she forced the sickness back down. "Is Rachel okay?"

Pausing, Diana sighed. "Ugh, sorry Max. I'm kinda pissed at you still, even if I shouldn't be. Heh, you know, part of me is impressed. But yeah, she's fine. Not the first time she's had a fat lip."

"Diana, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." she stuttered, only to get silenced.

"Listen, Max, it's not your fault. I kinda expected you to withdraw when you found out.” She gave the freckled girl a complicated look, debating how she should handle this. "You don't seem like the type to lash out. Not like me. Guess I underestimated you. Shit, if I'd known, woulda told you in the training room. Plenty of stuff to wail on and not bust ya self up in there."

The two girls spent the next twenty minutes or so in relative silence, only broken by sounds from down the hall. Light thudding, occasional shouts and the odd sharp inhale from Max as Diana sorted out her hands, wrapping them firmly in sports tape.

"All done. Probably gonna take a week before you can use 'em properly, though." Sighing, she got to her feet. "Hungry?"

Max nodded, only realizing she was naked under the blanket when she tried to stand up. Blushing, she pulled the blanket back up to cover herself. From now on, she should check to see her state of dress before flashing everyone.

Her hurried cover up made Diana chuckle, pointing to the pile of clothes. "You can wear those."

Sheepishly, the brunette pulled the clothes into her lap. "Where're my clothes?"

"Should still be in the shower room. I was gonna get 'em cleaned for ya," she replied deliberately, trying to keep the outward display of her annoyance over the situation to a minimum.

"Um, can you check the back pocket, please?” Max asked hopefully, trying to get her underwear on under the blanket with great difficulty. Her injuries sure didn't help. “There should be a picture."

Uncertain, Diana let out a soft sigh. "I'll check, but they usually take everything but the clothes you're wearing. Coulda missed it, I guess. They did kinda balls up with you." When the younger girl gave her a confused glance, she explained. "Usually when they bring someone new in, they give 'em a few days to adjust. For better or worse, they threw you in at the deep end." With that, she took the bowl of bloodied water and left Max to get dressed.

After a few minutes, she managed to get the cropped pants and flannel shirt on, opting to leave the sports bra off because of her hands. Giving up on the last two buttons, she headed out into the hallway to the shower room, just able to make out voices.

"Didn't think you'd tell her already," Diana muttered, sounding frustrated.

"I didn't tell her," Rachel corrected, voice quivering ever so slightly. "I just... jumped to the wrong conclusion. She's not an orphan, D."

"Shit..." the other girl mumbled, sympathetic.

Not wanting to eavesdrop any more than she already had, Max gave the door a few bangs to announce herself. Wincing slightly, she poked her head around the door to see Rachel and Diana sat on the bench. The red-haired girl dabbed at the blonde's face with a cloth, flakes of dried blood clinging to her skin. Guilt and regret flooded her at the sight of blood, swollen lip and fresh bruise on the blonde’s cheek.

Seeing the damage, tears welled up in her eyes, her lip trembling as she braced herself against the door. "I'm... sorry... I shouldn't have..." As she began to blub, Diana got up and wrapped an arm around her waist, walking her over to the bench.

Rachel tried to smile, turning into a pained grimace instead. "I don't blame you, Max. Besides, not as bad as it looks. Most of it's your blood." She grabbed the cloth and dabbed at her face. "I've had worse."

"Sorry for being short with you, Max. I'm just... a little protective, that's all," Diana apologized with a shrug.

"A little?" Rachel scoffed playfully, an eyebrow arching.

"Urgh, are you ever gonna let that go, Rach?" Diana sighed, looking embarrassed all of a sudden.

When Max gave them a questioning look, Rachel began to explain what they were talking about. "D here broke a guard's hand for me.”

Rolling her eyes, Diana shook her head. "I like how you conveniently left out that he was tryna cop a feel beforehand. He deserved it, asshole," she replied defensively, folding her arms.

"It was sweet, a little scary, but sweet," Rachel replied, making her blush.

"You woulda done the same," the redhead muttered, reaching into her pocket. "Oh, before I forget, here. I believe this is yours." She pulled out a crumpled photo, handing it over to Max.

Taking the picture, the brunette unfolded it, allowing herself a watery grin. This was her only possession worth saving. If she'd lost it...

* * *

**October 2007**

_When evening fell, Chloe and her family came around to Max’s house – each year, they took it in turns to host the Halloween_ _dress-up_ _session and place to crash after. The hallway, kitchen/dining area, lounge and Max’s bedroom had all been decorated with pumpkins, skulls, and bats._

 _Her mom had made the spooky dinner staple –_ _spagyeti_ _and eyeballs – and the girls had gone to get ready for ‘trick or treating’ while both sets of parents chatted downstairs. A battered cardboard box sat in the brunette’s room, taken down from the attic earlier in preparation. Years’ worth of fancy dress. That box had traveled between the Caulfield and Price house so many times._

 _Digging through the pile of capes, masks and random accessories – half of which had parts missing – the pair settled on their usual pirate outfits, the same as last year and the year before. Plastic cutlasses, eye patches, bandanas, tricorn hat, hooks, Spyglass,_ _coffee-stained_ _map and so much more._

 _Chloe finished first, waving her cutlass around wildly. “Avast, ye dirty landlubber. Be ye ready for the_ _adventuuuure_ _, argh.”_

_Dodging out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face, Max grinned. “Aye aye, Capt’n Chloe.”_

_“Let’s go get some booty!” the blonde shouted excitedly in her best-worst pirate accent, storming downstairs with her friend_   _trailing_ _behind._

_“Oh no, pirates!” William exclaimed, acting scared as they thundered into the lounge._

_Joyce put a hand to her forehead melodramatically. “Whatever shall we do?”_

_“Please, don’t hurt us,” Ryan begged, stifling a grin._

_“Or make us walk the plank,” Vanessa added, eyes flickering with amusement._

_“We shall spare ye, so long as ye direct us to the booty,” Chloe stipulated, brandishing her sword._

_Smiling, William got to his feet and approached them. “Come on, Vanessa. We have been held hostage until we meet such unreasonable demands.”_

_The parents took it in turns to escort them around each year. They weren’t ‘allowed’ to stick too close, hovering in the background to make sure Max and Chloe didn’t get into too much trouble. The four of them left, scouring the neighborhood for candy. This year was an impressive haul._

_When they got back home, they had some cake and raced upstairs to sort through their candy with strict instructions not to eat it all in one go. Three years ago, they had learned that the hard way. William had walked in to find them surrounded by wrappers with serious stomach aches. Never again… until the next year. After that, they finally started being careful with their candy intake come October._

_They snacked on some of their treasure, not going overboard. While they sampled the goods, they watched some Halloween films including ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ and ‘The Corpse Bride’. Chloe wanted to watch something really scary, but Max suggested they stick to something tamer – she did actually want to sleep tonight._

_“Another successful year,” the blonde announced, pushing her candy bucket aside to resist temptation._

_“Agreed,” Max said, following her lead. “Can’t wait until next time.”_

_“Free candy is the best,” Chloe agreed, giving her friend a smile. “Especially when I get to share it with my first mate.”_

_“You mean, get the chance to steal some of_ _mine_ _once you’ve munched on all yours,” Max corrected with a smug grin._

_“Sharing is caring,” the blonde smirked, nudging her shoulder._

_“Until you have to share,” the young girl playfully countered._

_“Hey, I share… sometimes. Might I remind you that I let you use my toothbrush, yet you hate it when I use yours,” Chloe added teasingly, sticking her tongue_ _out._ _“Kinda weird logic.”_

_“Well… yeah, I guess,” the brunette conceded, not having an argument ready for that._

_Smirking, Chloe shrugged. “I suppose I can forgive you. Oh, and I’m totally using your toothbrush tomorrow, by the way.”_

_The younger girl rolled her eyes, allowing herself a smile. Being with Chloe was the best, even if the blonde did do her best to annoy her. Max wouldn’t change her for the world._

* * *

"That ya sister?" Diana asked inquisitively, catching a glimpse of the picture. Swallowing hard, Max shook her head, not taking her eyes off it.

Expression softening, Rachel crouched down in front of her. "That's Chloe, isn't it?"

Exhaling deeply, she nodded. "She's my best friend. Known her since we were five years old. We... did everything together," she affirmed, a fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks. Would it even be possible to reach her now?

After Max had calmed down enough, the three of them moved to the common room. A few white, plastic tables and chair were dotted around. In the corner, there was a basic kitchen filled with the bare necessities - an electric hob, oven, sink, cheap microwave, small fridge-freezer, and a kettle. Overhead was a thin washing line, running the full length of the tiled room. LED lights were embedded in the ceiling.

Max sat down at one of the tables, joined by Rachel and Diana. The other unknown girls she had seen before were down the hall in the training room, according to the blonde. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she had been offered a piece of toast and some less than mediocre coffee.

"Ready for the info dump?" Rachel asked as the brunette licked her fingers clean of crumbs.

"I guess the hardest part is I'm not... leaving here," she muttered, averting her watery blue eyes. "Guess it's just trading one prison for another..."

Leaning over, Rachel gently placed a hand on her taped up wrist. "Wanna talk about it?"

Shrugging, Max leaned back in her chair. "Even now, I don't really know what happened. Growing up in Arcadia Bay, everything seemed great. I had my best friend and was happy. Then... her father died. Felt like I'd lost a parent, too.”

She recalled the feeling with painful clarity. William had been a role model to her. The cool uncle who let you get away with more than your parents because he could give you back at the end of the day. He had a way of inspiring confidence in her that no-one else other than her best friend could manage. Losing him… the personal loss and Chloe’s pain… then Seattle…

“Two days later after the funeral, I found out we were moving to Seattle for my dad's new job. Around that time, everything... changed," she mumbled, tracing idly shapes on the table with her index finger. "Mom got so angry over the smallest things. I tried to call Chloe once and she ripped the phone out of the wall, burned my diary. Got caught trying to run away a few days later... that's when I got my first one of these." She pointed to her black eye, tone flat and resigned.

Diana and Rachel's faces softened, waiting to see if she would continue or not. Sometimes, it was best not to drag up the past. None of them had the best start in life around here, and very few liked talking about it.

Faltering for a split second, Max plowed ahead. "After that, mom turned into a control freak. The worst came after my dad caught me mid-escape one time early on and I had a bit of a breakdown. It was during that argument that I realized I, uh… liked Chloe," she revealed sheepishly, feeling her cheeks turn as red as Diana's hair.

"Well, I'd hope so after being friends for so many years," Diana replied, yelping as Rachel kicked her under the table. Just as she was about to return the favor, she noticed the bright blush on the younger girl's cheeks. "Oh... you mean _like_ like... well, don't I feel like an idiot..."

Max grinned as she watched the redhead slouch back into her seat. "After Dad left, mom went all Sgt. Pepper on my ass. Spent my time either at school or locked away in my room. Thought I was so clever when I ran away again. Like I said, from one prison to another," she finished with a weak smile.

Oh, the morbid irony...

Rachel offered her a gentle smile in return. "And that's what you were doing before they brought you here. Going to see Chloe." That conclusion earned her a nod as Max fought back tears.

For a time, nobody spoke. Eventually, Diana rolled her shoulders and broke the silence. "What did you come up with for the worst possible outcome?  

"Sweatshops and drug factories mostly, cheap child labor. The worst..." she frowned, not even wanting to consider this one an option. "Some sorta... brothel." At the word, she pulled her knees to her chin, wrapping her arms around her leg protectively.

The blonde let out an amused humph. "First few might be an improvement. That last one, though..." She paused, giving Diana a sideways glance. "Looks like your tactic might've worked."

"You sound so surprised..." the redhead added, unimpressed by her lack of faith. "I do come up with good ideas, you know."

"If you say so," Rachel smirked, turning back to Max with a soothing smile. "Well, good news, that kinda thing doesn't happen here." Watching the brunette sigh in relief and unfurl, she pressed on. "Although... you're probably not gonna find the alternative much better."

"You know those illegal dog fights?" Diana asked, getting a nod in response. "Well, that's pretty much the deal here... except we're the dogs."

"We... I can't fight." Her voice came out more alarmed than intended. Even the thought of it sent a shiver down her spine. Rachel seemed to find that funny. "Rach, I'm serious. I've never been in a fight in my life... at least, one where I was fighting back."

"My face says different right now," the blonde chuckled, pointing to her fat lip. "For someone who doesn't fight, you hit hard, girl."

Regretting her actions all over again, she looked down at her hands. "That was... different. I don't know how that happened, honest."

"You raged out, Max. Happens to the best of us," the blonde stated matter-of-factly. "Look, we can teach you how to fight so last night doesn't happen again. But finding that part of you, the rage that drives you forward in those moments, that's on you. Heh, you just might be the biggest surprise those assholes have ever seen."

Honestly, she found that hard to believe, especially when she thought about all the playfights she'd lost against Chloe... and the times her friend had come to her rescue against bullies. Not to mention the way her mom pushed her around after the Seattle move.

"I don't think I can..."

"Max, look at me," Rachel demanded sternly, gripping onto her shoulders firmly. "Real talk, you have a mean left hook. You actually hit harder than most guys I've fought. Whatever happened in the shower room, it's in YOU. Just gotta figure out how to harness it."

Max could remember a time when Chloe had said something similar to encourage her...

* * *

_Joyce had gone out to get the groceries for dinner, trying to time it right for when William got back from work. She had left Max and Chloe to their own devices, not always a good idea. With parents away, the blonde had little reason to behave. The pair moved to the kitchen, looking for treats to snack on while they waited._

_The blonde eyed up the mostly empty cookie jar on the side, grinning. “Oh, last cookie. I’ll fight ya for it.” She held her hands up playfully, ready for a duel._

_Max gave her one unimpressed look, crossing her arms. “You’ll just whoop my ass. You fight dirty.”_

_“So… you’re giving up?” Chloe teased coaxingly, elbowing her in the ribs._

_While she was distracted, the brunette launched herself forward to the jar, shoving her friend to the side. “I never said that.”_

_“Argh, cheater!” the older girl cried out, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back._

_Not to be outdone by the sneaky move, she grabbed Max by the waist and spun her around, leaving the girl dizzy and disoriented. Shaking her head, she stumbled forward, Chloe keeping her at bay with her hand as the blonde grabbed the last cookie with a victorious smirk._

_“Guess I win, huh?” she announced triumphantly._

_Giving up, the younger girl’s shoulders slumped. “See, I’m useless. Just like at school with the bullies. I’m not strong like you.”_

_“C’mon, Max. You’re not useless. You just need to find your inner Hulk. One day, you will,” Chloe reassured, breaking the cookie in half and handing part of it to her. “And I’ll be around to help you until then, okay? Besides, you’re strong in other ways. And you can do shit I can’t do, like take awesome photos.”_

_“Did you actually just admit that I’m better than you at something for a change?” Max asked incredulously, nibbling at her cookie half._

_Chloe shrugged, licking her fingers clean after shoving her cookie part into her mouth. “Maaaaybe… I don’t like seeing you beat yourself down for no reason, is all.” Her expression turned hesitant, fidgeting slightly. “Cuz you’re… pretty amazing, Max.”_

_Those words made the young brunette grin broadly. “Thanks, and I think you are, too.”_

_“Well, duh. C’mon, let’s go find something else to do.” Chloe grabbed hold of her hand, tugging her off to their next adventure._

_Of course, Joyce noticed the missing cookie when she got home, chuckling to herself at their lack of subtlety._

* * *

"Besides, winning fights wins you cash. Not much, but you can afford better food and a few comforts. We don't pay for the basics - default clothes, first aid, water, food," Diana shrugged, lazily motioning to the kitchen area. "Whatever we earn, we put it back into the collective welfare of the group. A real team effort."

"So, I've eaten your food..." Max replied, feeling guilty all over again.

That made the redhead scoff. "Don't sweat it. Had a new order in today, with a few extras. Where d'you think the clothes came from? Win or lose, we get fed.”

As the day passed, Max listened to their more in-depth explanation of how things worked in the lovingly dubbed 'Hellhole'. Everything was run by the Prescotts, a name she vaguely recognized from Arcadia. Every three to four week, they fought for two nights over the weekend. Winning got them a low share of the pot, and they could use that however they wanted

The corridor leading off from the common room went to a guarded lift, their only way in or out. Provided they didn't cause trouble, they were left alone. On fight nights, they either went up when called or were dragged out. Until she could put up a fight, she was relegated to the 'Entertainment Round' - a ten-minute intermission either between fights or at the end of the night. All she had to do was last until the clock ran down, or she was knocked out. Faking it would simply earn her a one-sided beating.

There was only one way to make it onto the lists - win the round. Enduring it wasn't enough. Making the lists meant fighting for money. Aside from eating, sleeping and fighting they could do whatever they wanted, mostly training and chilling out. They showed Max around the training hall. It was equipped with weight machines, cardio equipment for endurance training and punch bags, alongside sparring gear. Nothing too fancy but it did the job.

Max did her best to take it all in, feeling overwhelmed by this strange world she had been thrown into. One way or another she had to survive until she could find a way to join up with Chloe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....
> 
> well


	5. Three ways out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok Been a little while for this one, But here is an update.
> 
> Previously on Two hearts one soul.
> 
> After realizing her feeling for her best friend, Max was forced to run away from home after her seemingly un-caring mother attempted to confine her, Unfortunately things took a turn for the worse when Max was abducted and thrown into a human trafficking ring specializing in fighting.
> 
> here's the next one.

**Three Ways Out**

Later that evening, Max sat on her sleeping bag in silence while Rachel changed her bandages. She still wondered if maybe she was dreaming all this, some subconscious sign that her old life - however tough and painful - was better than being treated like a commodity, forced to fight and most definitely beaten to a pulp.  
  
"You've not said much," the blonde observed, wondering what was going through the other girl's mind.  
  
"Sorry, just a lot to process, I guess..." Max replied, giving her freshly bandaged hand an experimental flex.  
  
"Hmm... kinda surprised that you haven't asked the big one, yet," Rachel mentioned offhandedly as she starting changing the bandage on Max's other hand. "Usually the first question people in our situation ask."  
  
In all honesty, Max had been too scared to ask that particular question, not wanting her hopes to get crushed so early. Clenching her hand, wincing slightly, she swallowed her fear. "Is... is there a way out?"  
  
"And there it is. Actually, there are three. One's more... final, last resort for some," Rachel replied sadly as she continued to work, hazel eyes firmly focused on the brunette's hand. "Not something I'd ever consider but... desperate times, desperate measures."  
  
Max swallowed hard. "You mean... suicide," she mumbled the last word, frowning.  
  
"Yup. Sometimes, people just... break. No matter how hard you try, you can't fix them..." the blonde confirmed solemnly, tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
"You mean... Toni?" Max asked slowly, hoping she wasn't crossing a line. "I heard Diana say the name last night before you came in to see me."  
  
Rachel let out a gently sob at the name, Max placing a comforting arm around her, feeling bad for bringing it up. "She was... you, pretty much you. Pulled in off the street. We had two weeks to get her ready. That night they threw her in the cage... I'll never forget it. She screamed, begged. When she came back, it... wasn't her anymore, just an empty shell." The blonde whimpered, leaning into the brunette's embrace. "We cleaned her up, gave her some painkillers, just like with you. God, how could I have been so stupid? She wasn't taking them, saved them up all week. Then, one morning... she just didn't wake up," she finished, balling into the younger girl's shoulder.  
  
They stayed like that for a while, Max returning the favor for Rachel being her shoulder to cry on before. She understood then just how important it was to support one another. Whatever pain she was going through right now, the other girls around here suffered just as much, maybe even more.  
  
Once Rachel’s tears had mostly dried up, Max sat herself up and looked her square in the face. “Rach, I swear to dog that’s not gonna happen to me, okay? If there’s another way out of this hellhole, I’ll… do whatever it takes. Then, I’ll figure out a way to get you and Diana out, you hear. I promise.”  
  
That made the blonde chuckle, watery and weak. “I’ll hold you to that. Let’s get you hand sorted out.” Resuming her bandaging, Rachel cleared her throat. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, ways out. The other two involved money, lots of it. First, being bought by some rich asshole. It’s happened to a few girls. Dunno if that life’s better or not sometimes. Depends on who buys you, I guess.” She shrugged, moving on. “Last way, you pay your own way. Ten grand will get you outta this dump. Don’t hold your breath, though. I’ve been here a year and only saved up three hundred. Then again, I’m not good with money. Never have been. Everything down here costs you, and I like my weed from time to time,” she admitted, finishing up Max’s other hand.

* * *

 **Two Weeks Later**  
  
Max had been training relentlessly over the past fortnight or so, fueled by the overwhelming desire to leave. The longer she stayed here, the longer she was away from Chloe. Her friend was about the only thing keeping her going at this point, alongside Rachel and Diana. The two older girls had really taken her under their wing, eager to help her train.  
  
Each day, the brunette would run herself to exhaustion, able to do an additional lap or extra rep of sit ups. When she wasn't training, she watched the other girls spar with one another, trying to mimic their actions. Even when the others took a day off, Max didn't rest, pushing herself harder. Her routine became set: get up, shower, eat, train, eat, shower, sleep.  
  
By the end of the week, her hands had mostly healed up. As promised, Diana and Rachel helped her work on her fighting technique. As it turned out, the redhead was officially a black belt in kickboxing and well versed in other martial art basics, self-taught. The blonde was a scrapper, a more underhanded method of fighting. Both styles would be useful to learn.  
  
Starting with the basics, Max had quickly learned rudimentary stances, blocks, and rolls – evasive maneuvers. Rachel and Diana would take it in turns, launching various attacks. When she got too complacent, they threw something new into the mix. The end result: Max landing flat on her back. Any snickers from the other girls were silenced by stern glares from Rachel and Diana.  
  
Gradually, the brunette was improving, constantly learning from her mistakes. Nobody could falter her on determination, always getting back up no matter how many times she was knocked down. She only needed one motivation for escaping... Chloe Price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, the next one won't be long, should be around New year at latest (Assuming we don't get too drunk :) )


	6. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't see any point in holding out on ya'll, And it's the giving time of year.
> 
> Enjoy

**Friends**

**April 2008**  
  
It had been a whole month since Max found herself in what she dubbed 'A Better Prison than Home'. It was Saturday night, the second of the two-night fights. She sat in the common room with two other girls, picking at a piece of toast while she waited for Rachel to come back from her bout. Only two fights left - Diana's last fight of the month and Max's 'Entertainment Round'.  
  
She snorted, recalling her round from the night before. Her opponent had been a middle-aged, slightly overweight guy. While he looked strong, he didn't lay a finger on her. Using her speed, she danced around the cage, mocking him by occasionally sweeping his legs out from under him. The single blow he landed hit her block; it knocked her back a few feet but she kept her balance and retaliated with a round of quickfire kicks to his overhanging belly. He shrugged them off with ease but it did earn her a few cheers and laughs from the crowd. The guard had smirked as the clock hit zero, her opponent punching the metal cage in frustration.  
  
'Felt like a training session with D and Rach, if I'm honest.' As she thought this, Diana hobbled back into the common room with the help of another girl, sporting a bruise on her cheek.  
  
"Don't say it, Max," Diana said raising her hand as she reached Max's table, thanking the other girl who helped her over.  
  
"You can't go out there like that, D. You can bearly stand," the brunette replied, crossing her arms.  
  
The redhead let out a sigh, expecting some resistance. "I don't have a choice, Max. Either way, I'm gonna end up with a few more bruises tonight. Don't worry, I won't let 'em get off lightly."  
  
Five minutes passed, both girls watching the clock as they waited for Rachel's fight to end. At the soft patter of feet, Max shot out of her chair and poked her head out the doorway. Blue eyes almost bulged out of her skull when she saw the state the limping blonde girl was in. Numerous bruises marked her forearm along with red blotches lining her stomach. One of her eyes was black and closed, blood running down from her nose to her chin.  
  
"Holy shit, Rach!" Max exclaimed, running over to take the weight off her sprained ankle. "You look terrible."  
  
"Heh, you should see the other guy," Rach shot back with a bloody grin.  
  
"Well, I hope you got a win for your trouble," Diana managed, jaw tight.  
  
Rachel just grinned. "Of course I did. This month we're cleaning house," she replied, watching the redhead get to her feet, putting all her weight on her good leg. "Then again..."  
  
"Oh, don't you start. Already had Max and two of the other girls give me a grilling," Diana snapped, looking annoyed.  
  
Max helped Rachel to a seat as two of the other girls came over with a first aid kit, bowls of clean water and clean rags.  
  
"D, you're up," Paul - the more friendly and trustworthy of the guards - came around the corner, glancing at Rachel with a grimace. "Least you walked away from that one, unlike ya opponent."  
  
Rachel just shrugged, smirking. "Not my fault he wouldn't stay down."  
  
Diana hobbled over to Paul, putting her arm around his shoulder as she walked out of the doorway. Before she disappeared, she glanced over her shoulder. "Hey, Rach, break out the green. Think I'm gonna need it after."  
  
Max stood there, watching them leave, then looked at the other bloodied and bruised girls. Finally, her gaze fell on Rachel; one of the girls was cleaning her face, another taping up her ankle. Without another word, Max snatched the tap and ran out of the doorway.  
  
"Max, what're you doing?" Rachel called after her, confused.  
  
"Wait!" she shouted after them, taping her hands and arms as she ran.  
  
They stopped and Paul turned to her with curiosity. "Wassup?"  
  
"I'm taking her place," Max stated outright, feeling her heart spike.  
  
Diana's eyes widened, a series of gasps and whispers coming from the corridor. As Max taped up on of her ankles, the red-haired girl shook her head in disbelief. "Max, you can't. You'll get destroyed."  
  
"She's right, Max. You're not ready," Rachel cut in, limping towards them with two other girls in tow.  
  
Done taping up her ankles, the brunette got up and bounced on the balls of her feet. "I may never be ready, Rach. Yeah, I probably won't win, but... I refuse to watch my friends take a beating just so I can eat."  
  
The older girl shuffled towards her, smiling. "While I appreciate the gesture, I'll be fine. Besides, they won't let you."  
  
Max turned to Paul, eyes pleading. "Will they let me take her place?"  
  
"Uh, dunno." He shrugged, jogging up to the main office to speak with another guard.  
  
"MAX!" Diana shouted to get her attention. "You're not ready."  
  
"Were you? Was Rachel, any of them?" she countered, gesturing to the other girls in the hallway. "Was I ready when they shoved me in there a month ago? No, none of us were ready, D." Paul returned then, interrupting the conversation. Max turned to him, holding back tears. "Well?"  
  
Giving the redhead a cautious glance, he nodded. "They're fine with it, so long as she does the 'Entertainment Round' after. A switch."  
  
"I won't let you." Diana grabbed hold of Max's shoulder and swung her around, fist already raised.  
  
Instinctively, Max blocked the blow and followed up with a leg sweep. Diana stumbled back, Rachel catching her. Everyone was stunned by the move. Not saying another word, Max turned on her heel and headed to the lift with Paul.  
  
"Dunno if you're brave or stupid," he muttered, shaking his head. He seemed to be leaning on the former if his tone was anything to judge by. When he received silence in response - Max too pumped with adrenaline to give a verbal reply - he continued. "The guy you're up against, he likes to make a show. If he gets you down, he'll prance around like an idiot, like those wrestlers do on TV."  
  
She turned to him, noting the concern, offering a weak smile. "Thanks, I guess."  
  
He gave a stiff nod as the elevator shuddered to a halt. She could already hear the loud cheering and shouting. Bright floodlights lit up the arena ahead, blinding. The smell of smoke, beer and sweat hit her as she began to walk. 'Ten minutes and it'll be over for another month.'  
  
At the end of the corridor was a metal gate. Paul unlocked it, giving her an encouraging glance. "Ready?"  
  
"As I'll ever be," she muttered back. Her heart rate increased, body tensing as the gate opened. The next step she took put her in the cage. No turning back now...


	7. Round one

**Round One**

As she entered the arena, the crowd erupted in an indecipherable sea of cheers and taunts, many banging on the cage and making it rattle. The first few made her almost jump out of her skin, soon getting used to it - simple background noise. The blood pumping in her ears drowned most of it out, tensing up to stop the visible shaking. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the bright lights, focusing on the other side of the cage. All she could do now was wait.

A moment later, her opponent entered the ring. Her body jolted in fear as her eyes fell on him. The man was easily twice her size - around 5'11 and 175 pounds of pure muscle - just wearing a pair of jeans. She'd guess in his late-twenties. His torso was intimidating, to say the least, toned and covered in tattoos. His ear held several piercings, too. Running a hand through his short brown hair, deep set brown eyes zeroed in on her, narrowing as he brought his muscular arms up, ready to fight.  
  
_'He really does look like a fucking wrestler... he'll crush me if he ever gets hold of me.'_ Gulping, Max also brought her hands up, matching his movements as they began circling each other.  
  
The crowd reduced to just a few shouting individuals as a hush passed over the crowd, waiting in eager anticipation to see who would make the first move.  
  
Without warning, her opponent broke into a sprint, closing the gap. Max managed to deflect his oncoming blow, adrenaline surging through her body. Seeing the man overextend himself, she brought her leg up, foot connecting with his abdomen. That earned her a few cheers from the crowd. He seemed unphased, grabbing her by the legs and flinging her against the chain link fence like she weighed nothing. She grunted, slamming into the cage as he approached her, fists raised.  
  
On impulse, she dove forward between his legs, turning on her back and jamming her foot into his crotch. For the first time, he stumbled and groaned. The crowd seemed to like that, laughing and oohing. Honestly, she didn't care about them right now. She wasn't trying to put on a good show. All she wanted was to walk away from this mostly unscathed. The odds were seriously stacked against her.  
  
Not wasting any time, she rolled backward onto her feet, darting forward and dropkicking him in the back. His body hit the cage fence, head colliding with a support pole. A loud clang rang out as his skull connected with metal, the giant stunned momentarily. Landing flat on her back, she repeated her backward roll, landing on her feet. While he recovered, she gave herself some distance, just in case he tried to lash out the second he turned around.  
  
Time seemed to slow around her, the crowd muffled. As scared as she was, she'd never felt so alive as she had now. Her body thrummed with electricity, energizing every single cell. Maybe she could do this, despite all odds. Prove to Diana and Rachel, to her mom, to everyone who had ever doubted her, most importantly to herself that she could do it. Persistence would win in the end.  
  
Her opponent turned to face her, enraged as he wiped the blood from his face. Letting out an agitated growl, he shot forwards and took a swing at her head. While she did manage to block it, the impact made her feet slip on the dusty floor. Too focused on keeping his arm at bay and not losing her balance, she didn't notice the knee until it was much too late. It slammed into her abdomen, knocking the wind from her lungs.  
  
Doubling over, another knee came up to meet her face. The force of the blow crushed her lip against her front teeth, slicing into it. Hot, sticky blood filled her nose, a strong iron taste in her mouth as her head snapped back. Soon, her body followed, smacking on the ground - another blow to her forehead as she crashed to the floor, a mess of blood and dust. Her vision was blurred, breath labored as she tried to get to her feet. This vain effort was greeted by a powerful kick to her midsection.  
  
On instinct, she curled up into a loose ball, arms protecting her face. Pain shot through her body with each blow, melding into one. Tears streamed down her cheeks, realizing that she might not survive to see Chloe ever again at this rate - the only thing she had wanted to achieve by running away. Now she was here, getting beaten to a bloody pulp by a mountain of a man wanting an easy victory, too much of a coward to fight someone his own size. The cheering crowd slowly faded away as she gasped for air, waiting for the inevitable.


	8. Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the next
> 
> Updates should be a bit more regular now.
> 
> Enjoy

** Catalyst **

Enveloped by darkness and silence, Max laid there, unmoving. The pain had vanished, replaced with a cold numbness - anesthetized. Was she dead now?  
  
“Well, this is another fine mess you’ve got us into, huh?” The voice was distant and echoed, taunting her.  
  
Gradually, the black void gave way to an image of the dusty cage, completely deserted. No cheering and jeering crowd, no beast of a man pummelling her into the ground, nothing. Cautiously, Max scanned the poorly lit area, frowning. Through the cage, she could see rows of benches, empty beer cans and discarded cigarettes littering the floor underneath.  
  
A few feet away from her was a girl. She stood with her back to Max, arms at her sides with clenched fists. Chin-length brown hair was plastered to her head with sweat, black cropped pants, sports bra and taped up hands covered in splotches of blood.  
  
“Y’know, you almost had me going with that little speech of yours before getting into the lift,” she revealed flatly, letting out a sigh. “Guess those were just empty words, as always, huh?”  
  
“Who… are you?” Max asked weakly, trying to get to her feet.  
  
Some invisible weight pinned her down, crushing against her the more she tried to push against it. Her chest constricted, lungs aching as she struggled to stand. Eventually, she gave up, letting her suddenly heavy limbs hit the floor in a light dust cloud.  
  
“Just what’s the point of doing this to us? What are you trying to achieve?” the other girl snapped angrily, ignoring her question.  
  
Unable to move, Max stared up at the ceiling. “I just wanted…” Her sentence trailed off into a deep sigh.  
  
“Just wanted what?” the brunette snapped back, demanding answers.  
  
“I… just wanted to help my friends,” Max finished, resigned.  
  
“Oh, yes, because getting beaten to a pulp will totally achieve that,” the other girl scoffed bitterly. “Did you even stop to think for a single second about how Diana would feel, knowing we’re taking a beating for her?”  
  
“I don’t wanna see my friends get hurt, especially if I can prevent it,” she defended, forcing herself upright. This time, the resistance was just about bearable.  
  
“Sure, keep telling yourself that. Might help if you actually believed it, too,” the brunette spat back, turning to face her for the first time.  
  
Her face was blotchy from crying. One of her blue eyes had a dark purple bruise, blood running from her nose and split lip. Max gasped as she stared at her in disbelief, like looking in a mirror.  
  
"Look like shit, don't we?" her doppelganger said, crossing her arms as she shifted her weight to one foot.  
  
Slowly, Max shook her head. “You can’t be me… the bruise is on the wrong side.” She pointed to her own cheek, demonstrating.  
  
That made the other girl laugh, short and sharp. “At least you haven’t totally scrambled our brain. The bigger question... WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING HERE?!”  
  
Max flinched at the harsh tone, body trembling. “If… mom woulda just let me…”  
  
“Enough with the ‘woe is Max’ crap. Yeah, that’s why we’re here, but I didn’t mean that,” her counterpart cut in, unsympathetic. “What are WE doing here in this arena right now?” She swept her arm across the area, tone turning sarcastic. “Oh, wait… You don’t want to see ‘your friends’ get hurt, right? Too bad you can’t help the one that matters.”  
  
“You mean… Chloe?” Max muttered, drawing herself close and hugging herself as she recalled how hurt her friend had been the day William died.  
  
The other girl offered a twisted, taunting grin. “So, you didn’t forget then. Her dad dying, her best friend moving away and practically ignoring her existence.”  
  
“That wasn’t my fault, you son of a bitch,” Max growled, anger flooding through her body.  
  
“Well, I’ll agree with the latter half of that sentence,” she conceded with a brief smirk. “Guess we can add her best friend missing, probably dead, to the list of shit Chloe’s had to deal with.”  
  
Whatever protest had been on the tip of her tongue vanished, mind filled with her friend’s reaction on the day of William’s death. She had shut herself away in her room, refused to eat or talk. When she did talk, it was just an angry rampage of emotion.  
  
“But… I’m not dead,” Max muttered, feeling a new weight threaten to crush her.  
  
That made her doppelganger sneer. “May as well be.”  
  
Fighting against the pressure forcing her down, Max’s shoulders slumped as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m… scared, scratch that, terrified. I don’t know what to do.”  
  
“Oh, you’re scared alright, but not of what’s in here,” the other Max announced, crossing her arms. “You’re afraid of what will happen when you get out of here, when you tell Chloe how you feel.”  
  
“That’s not true,” she sobbed, teeth gritting. “You know damn well I was on my way to tell her.”  
  
The doppelganger smirked. “You just didn’t get the chance to turn around, that’s all. Maybe mom was right. Silly schoolgirl crush.” Those last three words were said in her mom’s voice, bitter and uncaring.  
  
“SHUT UP!” Max screamed, refusing to accept any of it, anger boiling over as she slammed her fists into the ground. “That is NOT TRUE, and you KNOW it!”  
  
Her lungs were burning now, throat dry and body aching, the gentle numbness wearing off. She didn’t want to give up now. No, she outright refused. She knew how she felt, what she wanted to do. All that mattered now was reaching Chloe. That motivation was all she needed to keep herself going, even if they broke her body and mind in a million different ways. Everything else was irrelevant.  
  
“Prove it,” the other girl challenged, holding out a hand.  
  
No hesitation, Max took the hand she was offered, pulling herself to her feet with a newfound determination, one track mind. Get to Chloe.


	9. What it Takes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to queue your favorite comeback song.

**What it Takes**

A red haze clouded Max's vision as the cheers and shouts became clear once more. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, the once white tape was stained red. Her whole body shook, not from fear but rage - the same rage she felt towards her mother, the same rage she'd unleashed in the shower room, but more controlled, poised. Like coiled spring just waiting to be released. She let it fill up from her core to every body part.  
  
Her opponent had his back to her, celebrating. _'Arrogant fuck.'_  
  
When he turned back to her, a shit-eating grin plastered on his smug face, she wiped the blood from her chin and smirked, eyes narrowing on her target. Body fueled with adrenaline and rage, she launched herself across the arena. Faltering for a second at her unexpected recovery, he sprinted towards her fist raised. She knew what he would do, not even bothering to block it. Instead, she ducked under his swing at the last second, clotheslining his stomach as hard as she could. He grunted in surprise.  
  
The force of the impact sent her spinning. Using the momentum, she jumped on his back and grabbed hold of his pierced ear. She propelled herself off his back with her aching legs, rewarded with a blood-curdling scream. The crowd erupted in cheers as she landed behind him, two ring studs attached to a lump of flesh clamped in her hand. Throwing the grizzly trophy to the floor, she prepared herself for the fallout. _'If this is what I have to do... so be it.'_  
  
"You fucking little bitch!" he roared, clutching at his bleeding ear. "I'm gonna KILL you."  
  
When he stormed towards her, she didn't even flinch. Spinning on her foot, she brought her other leg up and slammed her heel into his unprotected side of his jaw, rewarded with a satisfying crunch. He staggered back, the force making Max fall on her backside. Again, the man bared down on her, blood dripping from his mouth. As he closed the last foot, Max snapped her leg up, making a clean connection with his jaw. He reeled forward as she rolled closer, slamming her fist into his crotch with her full weight.  
  
He doubled over, letting out a pained groan. Getting to her feet, she grabbed his hair and shoved it down to meet her knee. That was enough to make him topple over, cradling his bloody face. Panting heavily, she spat blood at him. "Think you're big beating up girls?" Not waiting for a reply, she jumped up and slammed her feet into his stomach, sending a fountain of blood into the air. She didn't even bother to avoid the spray, stepping off him. "I'm done being pushed around."  
  
The muscular giant laid there motionless, breathing labored. No way was he getting up again. A bell rang out, signaling that the round was over. The crowd went ballistic with cheers and boos, several small objects thrown over the top of the cage at the unconscious man. Max stood at the cage gate, watching with morbid satisfaction as two guards drag him out of the ring.  
  
"Remind me not to piss you off," Paul muttered as he unlocked the gate.  
  
"Don't." She motioned to the lock, determined. "Diana's NOT fighting tonight."  
  
"Max, it's only the 'Entertainment Round'. I'm sure she..." he began, frowning.  
  
"She can bearly stand. I'll take this one," Max said flatly adrenaline still running high.  
  
Paul sighed, signaling one of the guards across the arena. "Diana's gonna be pissed."  
  
The brunette responded with a smirk. "She'll get over it."  
  
Her next opponent didn't look much older than herself, shaggy blonde hair wearing a red coat and blue jeans. Not waiting for the bell, she launched herself forward. As the bell sounded, she'd already made it to the halfway mark. The boy froze, like a deer caught in the headlights, frantically looking around for an escape before collapsing to the ground in a ball. Max screeched to a halt less than two foot away, kicking up a small cloud of dust. The crowd booed and shouted obscenities at the cowardice. As she sighed, she was hit by a strong smell of urine, a small puddle visible.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, she sprinted back to Paul. "Er, do I look that scary?"  
  
He grinned, nodding. "You do look like somethin' outta a horror film, and he just witnessed you rip a guy's ear off."  
  
"I thought pissing yourself with fear was just a figure of speech," she muttered, glancing back over at the curled up boy.  
  
"Well, shit," Paul chuckled to himself. "What a night." He signaled to the other guards and the bell rang to end the round.  
  
The crowd booed, a few laughing hysterically - the sound spreading like wildfire. Presumably, word got out about the boy's little accident. With his tail between his legs, he scrambled through the door and disappeared. Max and Paul left the arena, walking back to the lift. On the way back, they couldn't help but laugh at the previous outcome of the fight.  
  
"I've never... seen that happen before," Paul got out between gasps, wiping his eyes.  
  
Snickering, Max took a few deep breaths. "Well, it was entertaining. They can't deny that."  
  
Shoving his hand in his pocket, he brought out two small bags of chopped up leaves.  
  
Max frowned. "What's that?"  
  
Paul cleared his throat, handing them over. "Just a little somethin' for you girls. Figured you might need it after another beating. Guess it's for celebration instead. Might wanna hide it, though." He gestured awkwardly to her chest, averting his eyes.  
  
It took her a second to realize what it was - weed - quickly shoving the bags down her bra, one in each cup. She patted them down until they were about the right shape. "Sure the other guards won't notice I've gone up a cup size or two?"  
  
"This ain't homeland security," he chuckled.  
  
Leaving Paul at the security kiosk, she limped down the hallway. As the adrenaline wore off, she became aware of the nagging aches and pains - her knee being one of the worst. As she approached the doorway, she could hear voices.  
  
"This is taking too long. Something's happened," Diana announced, sounding concerned.  
  
"Or she's doing better than we give her credit for," Rachel replied reassuringly.  
  
"Or she's dead," another voice suggested wryly. "Joking. It's getting too intense in here."  
  
_'Oh, cheers, Kelly. Love you, too,'_ Max thought sarcastically, imagining the glares from both Diana and Rachel. Limping around the corner, she leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "Not dead yet."  
  
All eyes turned to her, Rachel almost falling out of her chair as she spun around. Diana stared on in disbelief as the less injured girls of the group helped Max to a seat.  
  
"You look like shit," the blonde observed as Max took a seat nearby, starting to clean herself up.  
  
"Not all mine." She motioned to the blood splattered on her hands, arms, and face.  
  
"Least you got a few good ones in," Rachel said, shuffling her chair closer to the brunette and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
Sighing, Diana eased herself off her chair. "Well, guess I'd better get this shit over with."  
  
Max sucked her fat lip, tasting iron as she tried to hide a grin. "Well, you CAN go if you want, buuuut... there won't be anyone there. Unless they have a cleaning crew, that is." Getting a strange look from the others, she started taking the tape off her arms. "I don't blame you for assuming the worst, but woulda been nice for someone to ask how I did. I won, by the way. Both rounds."  
  
Jumping up out of her seat, Rachel pulled Max into a tight bear hug, catching her off guard. "I fucking knew you had it in you."  
  
"Fuck off outta here!" Diana exclaimed, disbelieving. Grinning as the blonde hugged her, she watched the confused redhead plonk herself down on a nearby chair, rubbing her temples. "Lemme get this right. You won, and they made you do the 'Entertainment Round' as well?"  
  
"Nope. I won my round and volunteered for the 'Entertainment Round' myself," Max explained, hanging her head as she braced herself for the anger. "How mad are you exactly?"  
  
Diana sighed, expression softening. "Max, listen. I'm... not mad. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for me in a long time." She passed a glance Rachel's way, who simply pouted. "Not counting... personal favors, Rach." Both Diana and Max blushed, the blonde smirking at the chaos she'd caused. "I'm just glad you're okay. Now, if you don't mind me, I'm going to bed. I'm wiped..."  
  
"Shame," Max interrupted innocently, taking the two small bags of weed out of her sports bra, grinning as she held them up. "Was kinda hoping you guys would show me how to celebrate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time
> 
> Peace out


	10. The Price of Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next.
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it.

**The Price of Freedom**

**October 2012**  
  
"I can't believe you're finally getting out," Rachel muttered, giving the now seventeen-year-old Max a tight hug.  
  
"Gonna miss you, Mad Max," Diana struggled to get out between tears, joining them.  
  
"I couldn't have done it without your help," the brunette replied, taking a step back and swiping at her blue eyes. "As well as that birthday present. You guys didn't have to do that, seriously."  
  
It had taken four long years, countless fights, bruises, and cuts, but thanks to Diana and Rachel's seventeenth birthday present last month of three grand and Max's scrupulous saving, she'd managed to scrape enough money together to buy her own freedom. Soon, she would be escorted out.  
  
"Hey, you deserve it, okay. Your dad'll be ecstatic to see you, not to mention Chloe," Rachel paused, expression more conflicted. "And... your mom deserves to know you're alive at least."  
  
"I know, but I can't help but blame her," Max replied, pushing back the bitterness. "And Chloe's probably forgotten all about me by now," she sighed, picturing the fourteen-year-old smiling blonde.  
  
"Stranger things have happened. I seem to recall a pint-sized brunette shocking everyone by proving she could rough it with the toughest of 'em," Diana smiled, still impressed by that even though it was years ago.  
  
The praise made her shrug. "Well, I had two awesome teachers."  
  
There was a cough at the doorway of the common room, the three girls turning to see Paul waiting with a half smile. "Ready to get outta here, Max?"  
  
Max took one last look at the room, a place she had unwillingly called home for the last four years. The other three girls kept changing as they were sold off, none of them lasting more than a month or two. She didn't really know the other two girls here now since they liked to keep to themselves.  
  
"I meant what I said before, you know. I'm gonna find a way to get you both outta here as soon as possible," Max promised, hugging them again. These two girls had and always would be considered family, more than her biological one.  
  
"We'll be here. Unless we buy our way out first. Then, we'll come find you in Arcadia," Rachel arranged with a watery grin.  
  
"Do me a favor, Max. Get ya self a belt. You're a natural," Diana added, giving her a friendly jab in the shoulder.  
  
Max said her farewells before being escorted down the corridor to the lift. As the doors opened, she saw Paul looking more concerned than usual. "Hey, I'll be fine. Just promise me you'll look after those two for me, alright?" She stepped inside, watching the floor indicator count down the floors to her freedom.  
  
"I'll do my best, Max," he said sincerely as she felt a sharp pinch in the back of her neck, everything going dark in less than a minute.  
  
A song Max didn't recognize started to play as she was jostled around, metal clanging as an engine droned. Groggy, she sat up and found herself in the back of a van. The air was thick and stuffy with the smell of oil. She rubbed the back of her neck where something had been injected. _'Thanks for the heads up, Paul... asshole.'_ As her eyes adjusted, her blood ran cold as she noticed large pieces of red-stained cloth and a pair of shovels, cold realization hitting her. _'Oh, shit... they're gonna kill me.'_  
  
Adrenaline coursed through her veins, snapping her out of her drug-addled state. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a long wheel brace - as good a weapon as any. Silently, she grabbed it and waited. A few moments later, the van came to a stop. Doors opening and closing, two sets of footsteps. Grip tightening, she tried to control her shaking as the back double doors opened. The second she saw a bald head, she brought the weapon down hard. A dull thud and grunt rang out as the man collapsed to the floor, half hanging out of the van.  
  
Not waiting, she launched herself out of the van, weapon raised to strike the second person down. It was night time, a full moon and clear skies dimly lighting up her sandy surroundings.  
  
"Easy, Max," Paul soothed. He wore black jeans and a long trench coat, a syringe clutched in his raised hand. Following her gaze, he emptied the liquid onto the floor, dropping the syringe. His head bobbed towards the downed man. "That was meant for him."  
  
_'Should I trust him? He was the one who knocked me out...'_ Not wanting to risk it, she gripped onto her weapon tighter and took a step back.  
  
"With how quiet you were being, I thought I gave you too much sedative. Guess I got it pretty much spot on," he muttered, dragging the man out. He groaned as he hit the floor. Next, Paul took one of the bloodstained sheets, dragging it over the unconscious man. Finally, he took a switchblade from his pocket, turning to her with a grim expression. "Might wanna turn around."  
  
Blue eyes widened as he slid the blade under the sheet. Looking away, she heard a dull thud and brief gargling noise. _'Oh my god. He just... holy shit!'_  
  
She heard metal clang, turning to see him already digging a hole a few feet away. Her eyes lingered on the sheet, now stained with fresh crimson blood. Giving it a wide berth, she approached Paul. "What... what's going on?"  
  
Digging the shovel in the sand, he leaned on it and sighed. "Well, as you've probably guessed, we're supposed to get rid of you. I say we, never been my intention."  
  
"But... you work for the Prescotts," Max recalled, thoroughly confused by all this. Her body was still shaking, heart pounding a little less than before.  
  
"Ha," he snorted, shaking his head. "Necessary evil, I'm afraid. Won't bore you with the details but I got in some trouble and they bailed me out. If I don't work for 'em, my family pays the price." His expression turned grim as he began digging again. "I'd probably still work for them even without the threat. You guys gotta have someone on your side. And it's easier taking something down from the inside."  
  
"You're protecting us," Max muttered, thinking about all the times Paul had helped them over those four years. Shaking her head, she grabbed the other shovel from the van. "Why didn't you say anything?"  
  
Paul grunted as he heaved another shovel of sand. "And risk blowing my cover. Best to keep you girls guessing and give my employers no reason to doubt me." He paused, watching her dig. "You don't have to do that."  
  
"You just saved my ass," she replied simply, glancing over at the sheet covered corpse. "Where are we, anyway?"  
  
"This is the Chihuahuan desert in Mexico," he explained, digging the shovel into the sand and putting his hands on his waist. "Las Cruces is about fifteen miles that direction." He pointed off into the distance, the same way the van was facing.  
  
"Mexico?" Max choked in surprise. "How the hell am I gonna get home?"  
  
Signaling for her to stop digging, he rifled through the dead man's pockets. "If you mean back to your parents, you can't. Not yet. Your face ends up in the news... and we're all dead." He pocketed something, dragging the body over to the freshly dug hole.  
  
After they had finished burying him, Max sat in the back of the van. Her legs dangled over the bumper, draining a bottle of water while he cleaned up. "What will you tell them?"  
  
He tossed the shovels into the van and joined her. "The truth, to an extent. You killed him," he motioned towards the unmarked grave, "then came at me. I took you out, as ordered, and buried you both. Nobody's gonna miss him, not the first time someone's died on the job."  
  
After a short silence, he rummaged around in the back of the truck, producing a small rucksack. "Here, it's not much but should help you build something of a life... until you can be you again." He offered her a half-smile, watching her check the bag - a bottle of water, a gray jumper too big for her, trainers that fit surprisingly well and two envelopes filled with cash. "That's your freedom cash. Not enough for what you went through, but enough to get you on your feet. Also, you're gonna have to leave Max behind. The world probably thinks you dead. Best you stay that way," he finished, handing her a driver's license and passport - her picture but not her name, Kelly Buckle.  
  
A few hours later, they arrived in the city of Douglas. Paul gave her a contact number for them to stay in touch. After Max got herself a new outfit and a few other bits and pieces, he saw her on a bus and waved her off. Just like that, she headed North to start her new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time
> 
> Peace out


	11. Birthday Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be the next one all.
> 
> Enjoy

** Birthday Wish **

**March 11th, 2013**  
  
Rays of morning light filtered through an open window, falling on a sleeping blue-haired girl. Her blue eyes flickered open, blinking as she rubbed the sleep out of them. She sleepily fumbled around for her phone, checking the time. 9:15 A.M. After checking a few birthday messages from her friends at Blackwell, including a dinner invite from her mom at the Two Whales Diner later, she groaned and sat up. Today was her nineteenth birthday.  
  
Stretching, she decided to grab a shower. That way, she could go straight to the Diner after class. Begrudgingly clawing her way out of bed, she shuffled towards the door. On the way, she nearly tripped over a pair of sparring gloves, kicking them out of the way and muttering curses. The mirror near the door showed her obvious blonde roots. Her first class wasn’t until 10:30 A.M, so she grabbed the blue hair dye from her desk and spent the next thirty minutes sorting herself out. Once downstairs, she grabbed a bowl of fruit loops and shoveled them down before the milk had a chance to turn them soft. It was now 10:05 A.M.  
  
_‘Enough time to get to Blackhell and have a smoke before class,’_ she observed as she rinsed off her bowl, grabbed her bag and headed out to her beat-up yellow truck.  
  
The drive to Blackwell was uneventful, the engine only nearly conking out twice. For March, it was pretty bright, a few light clouds hanging overhead with a cool breeze. Pulling into the parking lot, she pulled a joint from the glove box and lit it. Inhaling slowly, she leaned back prepping herself for the day. It wasn't as if she hated school, she just didn’t want to be here today. It felt… wrong. Out over the lot, she noticed Nathan muttering to himself. He wasn’t a bad guy, just kind jumpy and a total loner.  
  
A few students offered her waves, which she lazily returned. Taking another pull, she let her thoughts drift to her lost friend. Max Caulfield had been missing for so long now, five years almost. Where she had gone, nobody knew.  
  
"Hey Chloe, birthday greets.” The familiar voice brought her out of her daydream, A blond boy with droopy blue eyes walk up to her window, Justin Williams.  
  
“Thanks, dude,” she said as she got out of the truck, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Been shredding the rails this morning?” She gestured to the board in his arms, stubbing the butt of her joint with her heel.  
  
“You know it,” Justin confirmed with a grin, the pair heading to class.  
  
Time dragged, most of her classes a total snooze fest – Science and Art the only exceptions. She did just enough to keep her GPA at a respectable 3.0. Honestly, she could get higher if she tried but she just didn’t care. She had her art, found science a nice mental challenge and had her physical outlet – kickboxing. Having recently reached her black belt, she planned on taking it further, maybe even teaching. As far as she was concerned, she was set. Anything else was icing on the cake.  
  
Even so, she always felt like something was missing. She had loads of friends, her mom, even her stepdad was a decent guy. He couldn’t replace her dad but he had introduced her to kickboxing. In turn, she introduced him to her mom and the rest was history. It was a little soon after her dad died and Max disappearing, but she couldn’t exactly complain. She’d introduced them, after all.  
  
Finally, the bell went and Chloe shot out of class. The thought of food motivated the punk enough, more so birthday food. Jogging to her truck, she launched her bag into the trailer and clambered in. With the lot almost empty, she slammed her foot on the gas and sped off. Her head bobbed along to a rocky tune as she pulled up to a set of traffic lights.  
  
A deep roar came from a motorcycle cruising up beside her. She snorted, imagining one of the usual biker dudes. Instead, she caught sight of something unexpected. Pink hair from under a white, black and pink helmet; a matching biker jacket and superbike – black and white with a pink stripe running between the two colors. The rider was a little too small for the bike but she – Chloe assumed a she, anyway – otherwise looked pretty cool. Roaring to life when the light turned green, the bike did a slight wheelie as it sped off.  
  
_‘Cool, but a total show off,’_ the bluenette thought, flipping off the constantly beeping car behind her.  
  
Parking her truck at the Two Whales Diner, Chloe let out a groan at the birthday banner in the window by her usual booth. Sighing, she went inside and reluctantly took the indicated seat.  
  
"And there's my birthday girl," Joyce greeted cheerily.  
  
On instinct, she sank in her seat as other patrons wished her a happy birthday. “Mom, did you hafta make such a big deal?” She muttered, fiddling with sugar packets.  
  
“Actually, yes I did. My daughter’s turning nineteen. Now, stop sulking and tell me what you want to eat. I assume coffee’s a given,” she chuckled, pre-emptively pouring a mug.  
  
Rolling her eyes, Chloe played along. “Fine, yeah and… hmm, the biggest burger ya got and some wedges.”  
  
Joyce chuckled at her monster appetite, leaving to fill the order. “Oh, don’t go disappearing too quickly. David should be swinging by around six.”  
  
The bluenette spent the next half hour drinking coffee and chasing sugar granules around the table, making shapes. She both loved and loathed her birthday. On the one hand, food and presents. On the other… both her father died and Max went missing at the beginning of the month.  
  
Chloe could deal with the certainty of death, however sad. She knew where her dad was and could visit him to get things off her chest. With Max, she just… vanished off the face of the earth. Since then, the punk had slowly come to accept she might be gone for good. Still, she had to hope. As doctors said, no news was good news.  
  
“Here you go, birthday girl,” Joyce said, snapping her out of her internal monologue.  
  
In front of her was a large plate filled with a giant three-patty burger, loads of salad, cheese and extra bacon with more potato wedge than one could realistically eat… unless your name was Chloe Price, of course. She’d give it a damn good go at least.  
  
"Holy cow, mom. I asked for a burger, not the whole cow," Chloe joked as she eyed up the behemoth burger.  
  
“I’m sure you’ll find somewhere to put it all. Lord knows you do enough to burn it off,” Joyce chuckled, turning her attention to the other customers.  
  
Forty minutes and a valiant effort later, Chloe slouched back pushing the plate away in defeat.  
  
"What, you COULDN'T finish it?" Joyce exclaimed, surprised.  
  
Nursing her overly full belly, Chloe wondered if this was what it felt like to be pregnant. “Hey, I did alright. The burger was awesome, definitely, want that on the menu, just too many potato wedges,” she finished, a loud burp echoing around the Diner, earning a few appraising looks and a scolding one from her mom. “Not my fault you gave me a food baby. Least I know to charge you child support.”  
  
“I suppose that one’s on me…” she chuckled as she took the mostly empty plate and refilled the coffee mug. “Nice save.”  
  
"I'm just popping out for a smoke mom," Chloe said as she heaved herself out of the booth.  
  
"Don't go anywhere, kiddo. David will be here soon," Joyce replied as she disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
Perching herself on the ledge outside, she pulled a joint from her pocket. Leaning her head against the glass, she let the cloudy haze envelope her mind and body. At the sound of a motorcycle, she tilted her head to spot the black, pink and white bike from before cruise past.  
  
_‘Still looks hella cool,’_ she thought, a little jealous.  
  
The sun was already setting when David arrived. Chloe stubbed her smoke, leaning against the Diner door as he got out, carrying a small box. She grinned, already guessing what was inside.  
  
"Skipping training today, are we?" her stepdad asked with a knowing look.  
  
Chloe shrugged, opening the door for him. “Hey, it’s my birthday. I’m taking a day off. Was gonna skip school, but I didn’t.”  
  
Back in the Diner, they sat down in her booth making small talk about school, training and an upcoming qualifier in Portland. After a short while, the lights dimmed and Joyce came out with a candled cake, everyone singing.  
  
“Jesus, mom…” the bluenette muttered as she set the cake down – a pair of boxing gloves with blue icing and a pair of candles in the shape of a nineteen.  
  
“This is your last year as a bratty teenager, so it’s worth celebrating,” Joyce joked.  
  
“Pfft, I’ll always be a bratty teen at heart, mom. Numbers won’t change that,” Chloe retorted with a playful grin.  
  
“Well, make a wish. I think the others might want to see what they’re eating,” David chuckled, pointing to the melting candles.  
  
She looked at the dancing flames, recalling her goofy dad and missing friend – the horrible things she had said to the brunette on that last day. The all too familiar guilt rose inside her, eyes stinging with unshed tears as she blew out her candles. _‘I wish I could say sorry…’_  
  
Joyce slid in beside her, giving her a hug as the lights flickered on. “Chloe, you need to stop this. It wasn’t your fault, okay.”  
  
“Wasn’t it?” she muttered, wiping fresh tears from her face. “I was so horrible, told her to fuck off, that she was… dead to me. For all I know… she might be,” the bluenette sobbed, leaning into her mom.  
  
"You had just lost your father, Chloe. You were angry and upset. I'm sure she didn't take it to heart," Joyce reassured, rubbing her shoulder.  
  
The blue-haired teen just shook her head. "You didn't see the look on her face, mom. I thought I was upset, but she looked… crushed. I'm never gonna forget that... With dad, I got to say goodbye. She just… vanished.” The Diner door opened as a few people left, causing a gentle breeze and the two smoldering candles relit. “You didn’t get those silly relighting candles, did you?”  
  
Blowing them out again, she pinched the wicks with wet fingers to permanently extinguish the flame.  
  
David shook his head. "Nope, they’re just normal candles."  
  
A few hours later, Chloe found herself pulling up next to the junkyard. She needed some time to herself. If she was angry, she would go to the gym and take it out on a punching bag. She wasn’t, though. As she made her way to her usual spot to smoke the pain away, she spotted a figure step out of the shadows, taking up a defensive stance.  
  
"Now, that's not a good way to greet someone you owe, Chloe," the newly revealed tattooed blonde man called out to her.  
  
He wasn’t alone, another five young lads with him. They were around her age, three blocking off the larger exit, one waving a small pocket knife and the last brandishing knuckle dusters – all within striking distance.  
  
"Look, today's not exactly a good day, Frank," she warned, tone icy and short.  
  
Frank let out a snort, some of the lads joining in with amused grunts, "Sorry it's not convenient for you. Besides, this is just a reminder."  
  
“You know, I’m almost flattered you need six people to just give me a reminder,” Chloe taunted. “Or maybe you’ve got no BALLS to deliver the message alone.”  
  
Hearing shuffling behind, she snapped her leg back, connecting with one of the lad’s jaws. He crashed to the floor as her fist found another’s abdomen, making him keel over, winded.  
  
“Hey!” Another voice entered the fray, Chloe snapping her head to investigate as she felt something sharp press into her neck.  
  
“That’s enough outta you,” Frank spat angrily.  
  
The bluenette wasn’t listening, instead focusing on the short, pink-haired girl strolling into view. She wore blue jeans tucked into heavy boots and a black, white and pink biker jacket, unzipped. Underneath was a white tank top, revealing a toned stomach. Chloe watched her crouch down, flinging her leg up to hit one lad in his jaw, sending him crashing into the side of a burnt-out van. Blocking a punch from another with her palm, she kneed him in the gut, then the face. As he fell, she caught the wrist of the knife-wielding boy, wrenching his arm. The blade landed in the dirt with a soft thud.  
  
It all happened so fast Chloe could barely keep up. _‘She’s good.’_  
  
Letting the boy collapse to the floor with a groan, she pocketed the knife before it became a problem and turned her attention to Frank. “Ya know, where I come from six to one ain’t exactly fair.”  
  
“Who the fuck are you?” Frank demanded shakily, grip tightening.  
  
As the pink-haired girl approached, Chloe swore her eyes were playing tricks on her. _‘Is that red… no, pink eyes? They can’t be real, look cool, though.’_  
  
The bluenette focused on those eyes, noticing a fury she recognized. Like in the ring but way more intense, like in films when someone close to the main character got hurt or killed.  
  
_‘She ain’t fucking around,’_ Chloe thought, feeling the blade press more firmly into her neck. It sent a jolt of caution down her spine.  
  
The pinkette looked Frank dead on, fists clenching and body tensed, ready for a fight. “Not important. Now, how about you let her go and back the fuck away before I get really mad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who it could be.
> 
> Until next time
> 
> Peace out


	12. Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys
> 
> Sorry, its been a while but life, writer's block etc.
> 
> Anyways here's the next one.
> 
> Enjoy

** Homeward Bound **

**March 11th, 2013**  
  
Begrudgingly, Max was pulled from her sleep by her phone alarm. Silencing the intrusive sound, she groggily sat up and checked the time. 9:00 A.M.  
  
_‘Happy birthday, Chloe,’_ she thought, forcing herself out of bed. The B &B she, or rather Kelly, had spent the last two night at was pleasant enough, but it was her last stop before finally returning to Arcadia Bay.  
  
She had taken Paul’s advice of not going to see her parents, instead going from town to town, finding the more questionable establishments and entering unofficial cash prize fights. Turned out they were easy enough to find and fighters often underestimated her due to her size. It was hardly a challenge compared to her four years of hell, and there was always a hot bath and comfy bed after. The prize money helped replenish what she had spent from her ten grand kickstarter, along with paying for B&Bs, clothes and other essentials.  
  
After showering, Max hummed to herself as she got ready to leave. Her outfit of choice: a black sports bra, white tank top, blue jeans and a pair of black biker boots. Making sure she packed everything, she checked herself in the mirror, showing her a pink haired girl with bright pink eyes.  
  
Paul had suggested she change her appearance, advice she had also followed – buying some hair dye and contact lenses a month into her escape. She had come to like the look so much that she sought after something more permanent, corneal tattoos. Given the price and risk, Max made sure to find the most reputable establishment for the procedure.  
  
Only able to have one eye done at a time – with a three-month time frame from start to finish – was frustrating. However, with nothing to do but lay low, she had time and she didn’t regret the end result.  
  
Grabbing her helmet, she slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and headed downstairs to have breakfast – bacon, eggs, and toast washed down with a decent mug of coffee. As she ate, she noticed some of the guests staring. She just smiled back, knowing it was probably her unusual hair-eye combination.  
  
“Excuse me, miss,” a young voice called out, belonging to a twelve-year-old girl with a ginger ponytail.  
  
“What’s up?” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Max smiled. When the girl seemed hesitant, she let out a small chuckle. “I don’t bite, honest.”  
  
The young girl blushed, mumbling, “Umm… why do you have pink eyes?”  
  
Grinning – this wasn’t the first time she’d been asked – she rummaged around in her duffel bag, pulling out a box of disposable contact lenses. “First, I tried these. All they do is change the color for a day. You can have them, if you want. Best ask your parents first, though. And I wouldn’t wear them at school.”  
  
She handed the box over, the girl thanking her before glancing back at her parents, who smiled. “But… don’t you need them?”  
  
Max shook her head. “I wanted something more permanent, so I got corneal tattoos.”  
  
Hearing a gasp from the girl’s parents, Max ushered her back to her table. “Hi, I’m Kelly.”  
  
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Tom and this is Cindy my wife, and you've already met Rebecca," he replied in a friendly manner, gesturing to the woman sat next to him and their daughter.  
  
"Corneal tattoos?" Cindy asked inquisitively.  
  
"What’s that?" Rebecca questioned looking at her father.  
  
"Well pumpkin, you know daddy has a tattoo," Tom said pointing to a heart and scroll with Cindy and Rebecca written on it on his forearm. “Well, it’s similar, except on your eyes, I believe.”  
  
The pinkette nodded. “More or less. They can only do one eye at a time and it has to remain shut for a couple weeks for initial healing. Unlike normal tattoos, it might not be permanent, fading back to the original color, but for what I do it's much easier.”  
  
"What do you do?" Cindy asked, seeing her daughter’s interest.  
  
“I’m a kickboxer. Having to take out contacts every five minutes is a pain in the…” Max stopped herself, remembering the young girl. “Um… it’s a pain.”  
  
Both parents chuckled at the correction, while Rebecca’s eyes went wide. “You mean fight? You fight other people? Aren’t you a little… small?”  
  
That made Max laugh and kneel down next to the girl. “Doesn’t matter how small you are. All that matters is you have something to fight for. Something you really, REALLY want. You could fight with words, pictures, whatever. What you choose to fight is irrelevant, so long as you have something to work towards.”  
  
After saying her goodbyes to the family and paying her final bill, she left the B&B. Walking out, she zipped up her biker jacket and adjusted her duffel bag as she approached her 250RTC motorcycle. It may have been second hand but it was her baby – custom black and white with a pink stripe. Getting it shortly after release, it cost her less than $400 due to the engine being seized. While it was getting fixed up and resprayed, she passed an intensive course in two weeks.  
  
Strapping on her matching helmet, she kicked the bike into life with a roar. Smiling to herself, she swung her leg over and, after final checks, sped off towards Arcadia Bay. A few hours later, she arrived. Everything was pretty much how she remembered. The lighthouse overlooking the bay. Blackwell dominating the landscape as the most obvious landmark. In the middle of town, the Two Whales Diner – where she had spent so much time as a kid. On the outskirts, the forest covered in a thick canopy of leaves and branches. A total nostalgia trip.  
  
Cruising around, she found the Price’s residence with ease. Shutting off her bike, she approached the door and knocked, waiting. After a minute, she checked her watch. 15:20 P.M. _‘Guess they’re all out or something.’_  
  
A little frustrated, she sighed and got back on her bike. Instead of waiting, she cruised around for a while. She already knew who she was looking for – a blue-haired girl. Thank dog for social media. Going to the Two Whales was tempting but she didn’t want to cause a scene in public. Joyce might have a total meltdown. She needed to keep a low profile.  
  
Pulling up at the lights alongside a beat-up truck, Max noticed a happy birthday banner in the window of the Two Whales. She knew damn well who it was meant for. _‘Well, shit…’_  
  
As the light went green, Max hit the throttle. The sudden burst of power made the bike do a slight wheelie, hearing cars honk behind her. She didn’t care, grinning to herself. For the next few hours, she drove around only stopping to refuel. She hadn’t filled it in a few days and the trip to Arcadia had eaten most of the tank. In her mind, she imagined some kinda gremlin drinking up all the gas.  
  
Grabbing a sandwich and water, she set off again. It was sunset now, so Max took one final pass of the Two Whales, seeing a blue-haired girl smoking on the window ledge. She was pretty sure it was the same girl as the profile pic. As much as she wanted to rush over now, she voted against it. Home was a better place for the ‘Hey, I’m not dead. I was kidnapped and forced to fight for entertainment for four years’ discussion.  
  
A while later, she found herself in the junkyard. It was deserted, full of rusted cars, broken appliances, and other trash. With nothing better to do, she climbed on top of an old yellow school bus to eat her sandwich. She took in the view, admitting there was an otherworldly feel to the place. On the far side, she spotted an old boat. The sight brought back a flood of memories from when she and Chloe used to play pirates.  
  
_‘Heh, the boats grounded, Captain Price,’_ Max thought to herself, smiling at the memory.

* * *

_Max and Chloe were sat in their planning quarters, aka. the older girl's bedroom. It was the weekend, or as Chloe fondly referred to it 'time for mischief'. Despite her numerous complaints about the phrasing, Max always got swept up in the excitement. It was hard not to after seeing her friend so pumped up over it. To be fair, most of the time the blonde girl's ideas of mischief were fairly tame - in part to pacify Max. While she wanted to have fun and cause trouble, if Max wasn't enjoying herself too it felt... kinda boring._

_Where are we headed to, Captain?" the freckled brunette asked, ready for an adventure._ _They had both dressed up for the occasion, decked out in their pirate gear. It was too hot for some of it, left on the bed for later._

_Offering a broad smile, the young blonde studied a coffee-stained piece of paper. Her dad had given it to them this morning, in his best-worst pirate accent explaining the centuries-old treasure of the legendary pirate, Captain Buckleswash Bill. A callous and dastardly man who loved nothing more than gold and jewels. Not an uncommon motivator for pirates, but his went beyond the usual glittering obsession. Not a day went by without some ambitious venture, often resulting in murder._

_His greed had inevitably led to his downfall, but not before he sealed away a vast portion of his treasures. As paranoid as he was violent, Bill made sure to hide away his prizes. One of his stashes was said to lie in Arcadia Bay, his resting place out in the sea along with his ship - The Raging Tempest._

_Blue eyes settled on the bright red X sat in the top right corner, excitedly jabbing the cross. "_ _X marks the spot."_

_Apparently, their future treasure had been buried on Arcadia's beach, which made sense to them both. Pirates liked burying things and it was close to the sea. Eagerly, they prepared themselves for their journey. Grabbing their trusty adventuring bag - a worn backpack William had 'kindly donated' to their cause, aka Chloe had said she was taking the backpack and that was it - they filled it with supplies. Snacks, a couple of sodas, two borrowed garden trowels, a small compass William kept on his car keys because he loved his gadgets, the extra pirate gear and the map._

_Ready to go, they headed out of the house in the direction of the beach. On the way, they regaled tales of previous conquests, theorizing what might await them this time. As always, Chloe went straight for the badass weapon option. She was so confident that one day they would stumble across some magical sword that would annihilate anyone in her path. Max pointed out it would most likely be cursed and they'd end up like the skeleton crew out of Pirates of the Caribbean. Of course, Chloe seemed to like the idea of being an immortal skeleton pirate._

_When they finally got to the beach - if you could actually call the small sandy strip that - they set the bag down. As captain, Chloe took charge, pulling out the map and compass. She checked the drawn version of the area against the real one, looking at the compass as if she knew what she was doing with it._

_"Okay, so if this map is correct, the treasure should be..."  Her eyes darted along the shore, finding what she was confident was the spot. "There."_

_She pointed it out for Max to see, a slight dip in the sand about ten feet from where they now stood. Sharing a smile, the pair headed to the spot and kneeled down. Taking out the trowels - another 'kind donation' from Joyce this time - they began to dig. They figured that the treasure would be buried fairly deep so as to not be discovered by accident, but not too deep that it was impossible to get._

_"I'm still hoping for that badass sword," Chloe announced as she shoveled sand to the side._

_Managing to get some grains in her mouth, Max spat it out before replying. "And like I said, being a skeleton pirate might seem like fun... but it probably isn't."_

_Chloe stopped for a moment, shrugging. "It'd be fun so long as you were a skeleton pirate with me."_

_The freckled brunette found herself smiling. "Okay, maybe it would suck less if we were both cursed."_

_Whenever Chloe mentioned them going anywhere together - whether it was on some future Lara Croft-esque adventure, or just around the corner from their house - she couldn't help but feel so... happy._   _She hoped her friend felt the same way. Chloe was the kind of person who didn't waste time on people who she deemed unworthy, so that made Max feel special._

_That was when her trowel hit something. Noticing her stop, Chloe did too. Their eyes met, a smile shared. They had found it. Moving away the rest of the sand, they uncovered a small wooden chest. They pulled it out, anticipation mounting. The chest seemed to be unlocked, which disappointed Chloe a little. She liked the idea of being an amazing lockpicker, not that she could even do it._

_Exchanging a meaningful glance, the pair took the lid and pulled it up at the same time. When they saw what was inside, they frowned slightly. There were two bracelets - thin and silver with a skull and crossbones charm - a decently sided pouch filled with chocolate coins and a folded up note._

_Max pulled out the bracelets, the sunlight glinting off them. She handed one to Chloe, who immediately put it on her wrist. The brunette fiddled around with hers for a while, her friend watching her with a smirk until she admitted defeat._

_"Guess you need your captain's help, huh," the blonde playfully gloated as she got the admittedly small clip through the hook._

_"Yeah..." Max sighed, watching her work._

_Once attached, Chloe lightly patted her wrist. "It's okay. We all need help sometimes."_

_"Even you?"_

_That made Chloe laugh. "Ha, I just need help to curb my badassness so other people don't feel too jealous..." she hesitated, averting her gaze, "...and sometimes even the most badass of people need a partner in crime. Someone they can rely on and stuff." Before Max could say anything to that, Chloe put the coin bag on the sand and pulled out the note."Now, let's see what this says."_

_She cleared her throat, channeling her gruffest pirate accent and reading out the jaggedly written note:_

**_To the cursed soul who dares steal from me,_ **

**_Ye have made a terrible mistake. Turn back now before it's too late... if ye plan on continuing plundering from me, there will be consequences._ **

**_One lesson ye be wise to learn: NEVER steal from a pirate. Least of all_** **_Buckleswash Bill, the most dangerous man to ever sail the seven seas._ **

**_Consider that your one and only warning._ **

_When Chloe came to the end of the note, she grinned. "Uber cool. Can't wait to steal more from this guy. I bet he had a kickass weapon."_

_Max shook her head at her friend's eagerness to get in trouble. "I don't doubt it."_

_They sat down beside their freshly dug hole, chowing down on their snacks - newly gained chocolate coins included - and sodas. Adventuring was hard work. The sea foamed in front of them, waves crashing against the shoreline. Gulls flew overhead in lazy circles, several crabs scuttling across the sand lightly clattering pincers. Aside from the occasional passerby, they were alone._

_Further out in the water was a fishing boat._ _As a coastal town, boats were a common sight. Over the years, there had been a slight decline in the fishing trade._

 _T_ _he older girl stared at the small boat, daydreaming. "_ _One day, we'll get a ship. Then, we can sail away off on our own adventures. But... every good ship needs a name," Chloe paused, deep in thought. "How about... Lucifer's Crib or..." a smirk tugged at her lips, "Kraken Kibble?"_

_Max rolled her eyes playfully, unable to suppress her amused smile. "Do you **want** to tempt fate?"_

_Chloe scoffed. "No. I want to stare fate down and laugh in its face... while kicking its ass," she added as a smug afterthought._

_"So taunt it, then." How predictable of her friend._

_"Now you're getting it." Chloe grinned cheekily, faltering a moment later. "Or..." In a rare display of open uncertainty, she let the sentence get swallowed up by silence._

_"Or?" the brunette prompted gently. Chloe usually needed a little coaxing before she said something even remotely heartfelt or mushy._

_Shrugging to pass it off as nothing, she continued,"Well, if you don't like that name... maybe we could, uh... you know... put our names together. Like 'Pricefield' or something." She was very quick to add, "Only since I know how much of a sentimental nerd you are."_

_"Pricefield," Max repeated, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly. "I like that."_

_"Well... good, then. It's settled," Chloe managed, gaining more confidence by the end. Her last three words were soft, more to herself than Max. "Pricefield it is."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Till next time
> 
> Peace out


	13. Party Crasher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next one.
> 
> Is this the one we're waiting for?
> 
> Read on to find out

**Party Crasher**

Max stared up at the cloudless night sky, enjoying the view. She found herself doing this a lot since her escape, making up for lost time perhaps. Honestly, she just enjoyed being free, well more or less. Giving up her old name and life was the price. Still, there might be a way to reclaim a part of it in Chloe.  
  
As much as she hated and blamed her mom, she had to thank her for one thing. This experience, while not ideal, had made her much more confident, independent and a damn sight stronger.  
  
‘Like to see you try to hit me now, mom,’ Max snorted, imagining her reaction.  
  
She understood why her dad left, she just wished he’d taken her with him. Then again, she wouldn’t be here in Arcadia now as the woman she was. Sighing, she checked the time on her phone. 20:35 P.M. Deciding now was as good a time as any, she gathered her possessions together and jumped down off the bus.  
  
Walking back through the junkyard, she spotted a few figures ahead. Seemed like she was leaving at the right time. She could hear someone talking, unable to make out much more than a deep, gruff voice.  
  
“…you owe me, Chloe,” the voice announced, making Max freeze.  
  
Doubling back, the brunette found the group of figures. One had a small knife, another wearing knuckle dusters. The one closest to her seemed pretty scrawny and unintimidating, hiding behind the rest. Looking through the cars, she saw a blue-haired girl face to face with a slightly taller blond-haired guy. Another two lads behind.  
  
Chloe’s stance told her everything she needed to know, guarded. Moving as close as she could without getting spotted, she set her bag down behind a wrecked car and listened in.  
  
"Look, today's not exactly a good day, Frank," she snapped, irritated.  
  
The man laughed, short and sharp, with his buddies joining in. "Sorry it's not convenient for you. Besides, this is just a reminder."  
  
“You know, I’m almost flattered you need six people to just give me a reminder,” Chloe jeered challengingly. “Or maybe you’ve got no BALLS to deliver the message alone.”  
  
‘Chloe, such a potty mouth,’ Max giggled internally.  
  
That was when she saw one of the guys shuffle behind Chloe. Almost instantly, she watched a kick connect with his jaw, seconds later the bluenette’s fist embedding in another guy’s gut. Impressed but worried, especially when the other three lads started moving, Max stepped out of her hiding spot.  
  
“Hey!” she shouted to get their attention.  
  
Her closest opponent swung at her. Ducking, she snapped her leg up, boot connecting with the underside of his jaw. The impact sent him through the side of a van. Casting a glance Chloe’s way, a jolt of fear and anger shot through her when she noticed the blade at her throat.  
  
The guy with knuckle dusters launched forward with a punch. Blocking it with her palm, a sharp pain shooting through her arm which only added to her rage, she kneed him in the gut and then slammed his face into her knee with a satisfying crunch.  
  
Before he hit the ground, the third guy swiped his knife at her. Catching his wrist with her hand, she twisted his arm behind his back, applying pressure until he let go of the knife.  
  
Taking the blade and shoving him to the floor, checking that the others were in no fit state to fight, she turned to the armed scruffy blond man. “Ya know, where I come from six to one ain’t exactly fair.”  
  
“Who the fuck are you?” he hissed shakily. If he wasn’t pointing a blade to Chloe’s neck, Max might find his ‘tough’ guy expression amusing.  
  
When the bluenette’s expression shifted to something more pained as the blade’s point dug into her skin, anger surged through Max’s mind and body. ‘If he does anything to her, I’ll kill him.’  
  
“Not important,” she replied, trying to keep her temper in check, hoping that Chloe didn’t recognize her yet. “Now, how about you let her go and back the fuck away before I get really mad?”  
  
“Not that it’s any of your business, but she owes me,” the man replied through gritted teeth.  
  
Quickly summarizing he was after money, Max relaxed. She could work with that. Feeling Chloe’s gaze on her, expression a mixture of admiration and confusing, the brunette rolled her shoulders. “How much?”  
  
Frowning, the man narrowed his bloodshot eyes. “Three grand, plus interest. Why, you gonna pay?”  
  
Doing a few quick calculations in her head – she’d dealt with small time drug dealers in the past – she settled on a number that should satisfy him. “Call it thirty-three hundred, then. And yeah, I am.”  
  
Chloe looked like she was about to say something, Max shaking her head to silence her.  
  
“Yeah sure, if ya got it,” he snorted challengingly.  
  
Surprised he didn’t haggle, she shrugged and turned to the whimpering boy on the ground. “Okay, listen up, asshole. See that car?” He nodded when she pointed it out. “You’ll find a duffel bag and helmet. Bring them here. Do NOT look through the bag or try anything, or you WILL end up in hospital to have you arm removed from your ass. Understood?”  
  
Terrified, the boy scarpered off, returning with the bag and helmet before retreating to a safe distance. Kneeling, she found her money and pulled out thirty-three $100 bills, keeping the rest of her cash stash firmly hidden from sight. ‘Last thing I need is him trying to take it all.’  
  
Zipping up the bag, she handed the roll of cash to one of the young men, who sent it over to the blond leader. He started counting it up, then turned his attention back to Max.  
  
“You’ve got your money. Now, let her go,” Max demanded, tone oozing with threat.  
  
A moment or two later, he withdrew his knife and shoved Chloe away. Pocketing the money, he turned to leave.  
  
“We’re square now, right Frank?” Chloe called after him.  
  
The blond man, Frank, turned to face the bluenette. “Yeah, we’re square, but I ain’t lending you money again. No more handouts. Don’t bother showing up without cash anymore,” he grumbled before disappearing off into the night.  
  
Letting out a sigh of relief, Max picked up her duffel and hoisted it onto her shoulder. Taking her helmet, she cradled her injured hand against her chest and headed towards her bike. Chloe followed her, both wanting to put some distance between themselves and the group of lads.  
  
Now at her bike, thankfully parked under a streetlamp, she hooked the helmet on the handlebar and pulled a first aid kit from her bag. Inspecting her bloody hand, she noticed a deep slice in her palm, two smaller holes either side. Washing the blood away with the gas station water, she heard Chloe come up beside her.  
  
The bluenette gasped at the damage, frowning. “Do you, uh, want a hand?”  
  
Max nodded, handing her the medical wipe and tape. Sitting in an uneasy silence, Chloe set about cleaning and dressing the pinkette’s hand. Giving her hand a flex, Max winced.  
  
“Look, err, thank you for… ya know, helping me out, but you didn’t hafta pay the guy,” Chloe said appreciatively, glancing down at her hands.  
  
“Like I’m gonna stand by and watch my best friend get harassed, Chlo,” Max replied with a gentle smile.  
  
The bluenette’s head snapped up at the deliberate use of her childhood pet name, confused. Her blue eyes searched Max’s now pink ones, trying to make sense of it. The younger girl’s heart began racing, swallowing nervously.  
  
“I know I look… a little different,” she muttered quietly, unable to keep the grin off her face.  
  
Chloe’s expression snapped from confusion to instant realization. “Ma…”  
  
The pinkette placed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “It’s Kelly now, but yes, Chlo… I’m home. And I swear to dog I’m never leaving you again,” she whispered quietly. Her old friend’s blue eyes began welling with tears, trembling. “Chlo, please… if you start, I will too… can we… just get to yours first?” Max managed to force out, swallowing back the flood of emotions.  
  
This was the day she had been waiting for all those years and it felt… so amazing. Better than she could’ve ever imagined. And she had imagined it a million times, both in dreams and while awake. Finally, she was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm not apologizing for that.
> 
> Till next time
> 
> Peace out


	14. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And by popular demand, the Pinkett is back
> 
> Enjoy

**Reunion**

Following Chloe’s truck home on her bike, Max parked up beside her in the driveway. Retrieving her duffle from the back, she followed the bluenette into her second childhood home and dumped everything in the hallway. In her mind, she recalled her and Chloe drawing, constructing pillow forts, their movie nights, making pancakes… the memories hit her like an emotional wrecking ball.  
  
Her legs gave out, collapsing to her knees as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m home… I’m finally home…”  
  
Expression shifting from alarm to sympathy, the bluenette scooped her up into a hug. “I’ve missed you so fucking much. I… we thought you were…” Chloe paused, clearing her now dry throat as tears ran down her cheeks. “But you’re not. You’re here, really here.”  
  
“What on earth…?” The question was left unfinished as an older blonde woman moved to the hallway, confused by the two brightly colored haired girls in a heap before her. “Chloe, what’s wrong? Who’s this?”  
  
Shuffling, Chloe moved to give her mom a clear view of the pinkette, who shakily got to her feet with a watery smile. “Hi, Joyce. Been a while, huh?”  
  
“Mom, it’s Max. She’s alive,” the blue-haired girl cried, burying her face in her old friend’s shoulder.  
  
Joyce stood stock still, color draining from her face as though she had seen a ghost. Technically, she had. “Max… oh my god… you’re ALIVE!” the older woman shrieked, flinging herself forward to envelop the two girls in a tight hug.  
  
They stayed like that for a long time, hugging and sobbing. This reunion had been a long time coming, too long. Answers could wait for now. All that mattered was Max was back in Arcadia again.  
  
Eventually breaking the hug, Joyce tucked a strand of pink hair behind Max’s ear. “All grown up. I like the hair,” she chuckled, wiping her watery blue eyes. “Your mother and father are going to be ecstatic…”  
  
“NO!” Max shot back flatly, making Joyce jump and Chloe stiffen. “Sorry, but no-one else can know… not yet, anyway,” she swiftly explained, noting the confusion. “I’m sorry, I should’ve stayed away, but… I had to see you guys.” The tears fell thick and fast as she buried her face in the bluenette’s chest.  
  
“Max, whatever’s going on, we’ll sort it out, okay,” Chloe replied softly, resting her forehead against the pinkette’s as she gently squeezed her hands.  
  
Max winced, pulling her bandaged hand back as pain shot through it. Going into full-on mom-mode, Joyce took a step forward and carefully examined the bloodied bandages. “Okay, I’ll make a pot of coffee and dig out the first aid kit. And the rest can come in your own time.” She gave the young girl's shoulder a squeeze as she headed into the kitchen.  
  
Hanging the biker jacket up, Chloe led her into the lounge to find David on the couch. He turned his head as they entered, concerned. “You girls alright?”  
  
“Oh, hi David, uh, this is…” the bluenette began, her stepdad cutting her off.  
  
"Max, I heard. Pleased to meet you, safe and sound," David finished her sentence with a smile.  
  
“David owns the gym where I train. He actually introduced me to kickboxing about a month after you… disappeared.” Chloe’s initially enthusiastic sentence dwindled as it reached its conclusion.  
  
“Pleased to meet you, too,” Max said as she wiped her face, managing a soft chuckle.  
  
“Did I miss something?” Chloe asked with a confused frown.  
  
Unwrapping the bandages in preparation, the pinkette grinned. “I started learning around the same time… a little earlier, actually.”  
  
“You two always were alike,” Joyce chuckled as she returned with a tray holding a coffee pot, two mugs, milk, sugar and a first aid kit. “Bright colored hair and fighting… You ain’t got any hidden tattoos, have ya?”  
  
Max’s eyes fell on the now visible sleeve tattoo on Chloe’s right arm – a skull adorned with a red flower, vines and a red ribbon twisting along the length with blue butterflies at the top.  
  
“C’mon Max, if you do, you have to show me,” the bluenette demanded as her old friend shyly eyed up her tattoo.  
  
“You’ve already seen ‘em,” Max revealed with a grin, the other three very confused. She turned to Chloe with a snicker, looking her straight in the eyes. “Guess I’ll give you a hint. You’re looking right at them.”  
  
Chloe’s eyes roamed over the pinkette’s face, coming to rest on her eyes. Then, it hit her. “No fucking way…” she breathed in disbelief, getting an amused nod in response.  
  
“Chloe, language,” Joyce cautioned, still puzzled. “I still don’t see it.”  
  
“Mom, it’s her eyes. She got her fucking eyeballs tattooed,” the older girl stated excitedly, moving closer to get a better look. “So hardcore.”  
  
Stunned, Joyce also moved closer. “What? I thought those were just contacts.”  
  
“What on earth possess people to get tattoos? I’ll never understand,” David grumbled to himself, remaining seated.  
  
“Isn’t that kinda thing… dangerous?” Joyce asked, still in shock.  
  
“A little, expensive too. Initial healing takes several weeks,” Max replied as she continued to unbandage her hand. “Worth it for me, though.”  
  
Pushing the surprise back, Joyce turned her attention to the young girl’s wounds. The next twenty minutes were spent explaining the how and why of Max’s new appearance, as well as a recap of the evening’s events at the junkyard.  
  
“Well, you have my eternal gratitude for stepping in, Max. And I will pay you back personally,” Joyce promised, inspecting the surgical glue sealing her hand wound shut.  
  
“Don’t be silly, Joyce. If anything, I owe you guys for all the pancakes I scarfed down over the years and god knows what else,” Max replied, trying to make a joke out of it.  
  
“It’s not about the money, Max. This could’ve been a lot worse,” Joyce countered firmly. “You could’ve been hurt, killed.”  
  
“Or Chloe could have, if I HADN’T stepped in when I did,” Max insisted, shaking the thought of Frank holding a knife to Chloe’s throat from her mind. “I’m not gonna stand by when my best friend needs me.”  
  
The bluenette in question swallowed, thinking along the same lines.  
  
Grabbing a mug of coffee, Max added some sugar and gave it a stir, enjoying a mouthful of the hot liquid as everyone stared at her expectantly. “How’s my dad?”  
  
Joyce gave her an apologetic look, voice soft. “Max, your mom and dad split, just over four years ago.”  
  
“Oh,” the pinkette mumbled, not all that surprised.  
  
“After you… left, they had a fight and your dad moved out,” Joyce recalled sympathetically.  
  
“WHAT?!” Max snapped, interrupting her as a rush of anger surged through her. “Are you saying…? Did she say my dad moved AFTER I left?”  
  
The older woman nodded cautiously. “That’s what she told me, yes. You just disappeared one night. Thought you might be coming here. After that, we didn’t speak much… at all. Losing family is… tough.”  
  
“And that’s all she said. Nothing about before then?” Max asked, beginning to pace the room with clenched fists.  
  
"Pretty much,” Joyce confirmed. “Apparently, you had a bit of trouble settling at your new school, but that was..."  
  
"BITCH!” Max roared, slamming her fist next to the sliding glass doors leading into the backyard, cracking the plaster.  
  
“Max…” Chloe gasped, jumping up from the couch and stopped a few feet behind the fuming pinkette. Joyce and David remained silent.  
  
“Even when I was missing… probably DEAD!” she spat, slamming her fist into the wall again.  
  
Hating watching her friend self-destruct, Chloe interjected. “Max… I know you’re upset…”  
  
“No, not upset. I’m fucking FURIOUS!” Max corrected, storming past her into the hallway to get a joint from her jacket pocket, then stomped outside into the backyard.  
  
_‘Why did she fucking lie? Tch, well, I know why…’_ Max thought bitterly as she plonked herself down on the rusty swing set, inhaling a lungful of smoke before muttering. “I fucking hate you…”  
  
“Uh… right, um…” Chloe managed as she approached her friend, scuffing her foot along the grass.  
  
“Sorry, Chloe, not you,” the pinkette sighed wearily. “Just gimme five to cool off. I don’t wanna blow up in your face.”  
  
“It’s cool. Was actually gonna join you,” Chloe replied with a shrug, sitting down on the see-saw part of the swing set. “You know, it’s bad etiquette to not share.”  
  
Managing a smile, Max exhaled deeply and passed over her mostly smoked joint. “Woulda waited if I’d known.”  
  
“No worries, I got another one.” She waved a freshly rolled joint now resting in her fingers. “Well, borrowed. What, your jacket was left unattended. Don’t judge.”  
  
Unable to feel mad, the pinkette shook her head with a smile. “Dork.”  
  
“Wow, not heard that one in a while,” Chloe snorted, taking the last hit on the already lit joint before getting the other one going.  
  
Passing it between them, they smoked in silence. This was not how she had planned meeting up with Chloe again, not that she could really complain. At least she was here. As she already knew, things never went to plan.  
  
Chilled out again, Max finished up the joint and the pair wandered back inside. David was not impressed, Joyce very concerned. Her eyes focused on the crack in the wall, scolding herself for letting her rage get the better of her.  
  
“Uh, sorry about that. I’ll pay whatever it takes to get fixed,” she promised earnestly.  
  
“I’m more worried about you, Max,” Joyce replied softly.  
  
“I’m… calmer now, thanks,” the young girl said, grabbing her now lukewarm coffee. “I just…” Her words were lost to a sigh.  
  
“Why don’t you tell us what happened? We can all be on the same page, then,” Chloe suggested as she sat her friend down on the floor, placing a hand on the pinkette’s knee as she joined her.  
  
Blushing, hoping that the cold of night would mask the heat, she sighed. “I guess it started just after we moved. Mom got wound up of the stupidest of shit, like leaving a dish in my room sent her nuclear. At first, I thought it was stress from the move so I didn’t pay much attention.”  
  
She paused to take a sip of coffee, reliving the early explosions of anger. It had only gotten so much worse…  
  
“When the phone line went active I was pretty ecstatic, meant I could ring you,” Max offered a sad smile to her blue-haired friend. “Mom, on the other hand, flipped out and… ripped the phone outta the wall and… burned my diary.”  
  
"WHAT?!" Joyce and Chloe snapped in surprise.  
  
Max just shrugged. “After that, dad got me a mobile but I didn’t have your number. No way of getting it, either. She made sure of that. Anyway, I planned to travel to Arcadia by bus, just over the weekend you know, but mom came home early and caught me. I… ended up with a black eye.”  
  
“Max, you are… telling the truth, right?” Joyce asked hesitantly, not wanting to believe it. The Vanessa she knew would never do that to anyone, let alone her own child.  
  
Just as Chloe was about to jump in to defend her friend, Max raised her hand to silence her. “It’s okay, Chlo. And Joyce, I really wish I was lying. At the time, I thought it was an accident. Things just got outta hand and she’d apologize later, but… she never did. She told dad I caught it on a coat hook.”  
  
Her shoulders slumped, remembering it all in vivid detail. If only she had realized it at the time, understood that wouldn’t be the last of her suffering.  
  
“After that, I tried a couple times to leave. One time, I got all the way to the bus station. Dad was there, waiting. We had a big fight, mom said we shoulda left Arcadia sooner and I ran to my room. Next day, he was gone,” Max sighed deeply before continuing. “Mom found my phone and started policing everything I did, no freedom. So, I bided my time and ran away again. This time, I made it all the way to the highway, early hours of the morning.” Tears began rolling down her cheeks, fists balling up.  
  
“Max, if I had known…” Joyce cooed sympathetically, joining her on the floor to give her a well-needed hug. “You could’ve stayed here.”  
  
“That was the plan,” Max muttered, wiping the tears from her face. “I just… never made it that far.”  
  
“What happened?” Chloe asked, putting an arm around her.  
  
“I was… abducted,” the pinkette revealed, going on to tell the four-year tale of her imprisonment.  
  
Jaw tightening, David stood and started walking across the lounge. “I’m gonna call the police.”  
  
“NO!” Max shouted, leaping over the couch to snatch the phone before he could reach it. “Max Caulfield is DEAD, okay. She has to be, otherwise… a whole lotta other people will be instead. EVERYONE who knows…”  
  
David stood still, considering it all. “I guess you’ve got a point there,” he reluctantly conceded, wandering into the kitchen to fill the kettle up.  
  
"So, what are we gonna do?" Chloe asked, getting to her feet and stretching.  
  
"Chloe, I can't ask you…" Max began, getting cut off immediately.  
  
“I’m not gonna stand by when my best friend needs me,” the bluenette stated, allowing herself a slight smirk as she used the pinkette’s own words against her.  
  
“Fair point,” Max sighed, managing a smile. “Right now, not much. I’m gonna help Rachel and Diana get out. Once they’re out, I have a folder filled with all kinds of dirty secrets. After that, I lay low until Sean Prescott is behind bars,” she finished calmly, replacing the phone.  
  
The name made Chloe bristle, recognizing it immediately. “Prescott…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Till next time
> 
> Peace out


	15. The Prescott Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all
> 
> sorry it's been a little while, things have been slow, but they are moving a little.
> 
> Here's the next one, will try not to leave you without for as long, should have sommin interesting for the next one I hope.
> 
> Enjoy

** The Prescott Connection **

The day was warm and sunny, a gentle cool breeze filtering through the open window of Chloe’s truck, currently parked in Blackwell’s parking lot. Max was admiring the century-old building, pondering the student life she was robbed of – sharing classes with Chloe and getting up to mischief, like the good old days.  
  
_‘Guess there's always university… after this shit’s over.’_ She watched a group of students doing tricks on their skateboards, laughing at one who ended up on his ass.  
  
“There he is,” Chloe muttered, tapping Max’s leg to bring her out of the daydream.  
  
The pinkette followed her line of sight, noticing a tallish lad wearing a red coat and blue jeans. His blond hair was swept back, blue eyes fixed on his phone.  
  
“You SURE you wanna do this, Ma… uh, Kelly?” the bluenette corrected firmly. The name change would take some getting used to.  
  
Noticing the concern, Max gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Chlo, I have to. If he really doesn’t have anything to do with his dad, that’s one less thing to worry about. If he does… at least we’ll know. And we can be careful. It’ll be okay.”  
  
The blue-haired punk sighed and got out of the truck, jogging to catch up with Nathan. At first, he was jumpy but seemed to relax when Chloe offered him something – a joint she assumed. They walked over to a big birch tree, sitting in the shade to smoke. He was still on edge but they both seemed to be laughing.  
  
_‘Maybe they’re just high,’_ she theorized with a smirk as a couple of, who she assumed to be, teachers – a dark-skinned lady with brown, curly hair and a pale, tall man with a goatee and glasses – gave them curious glances from across campus.  
  
Ten minutes later, Max’s phone went off with a message from Chloe.  
  
**Chloe: Hey pinky**  
  
**Chloe: its cool**  
  
**Chloe: ya comin’ over**  
  
**Kelly: Yeah omw**  
  
**Kelly: and pinky…**  
  
**Kelly: REALLY**  
  
**Chloe: It's accurate**  
  
**Kelly: should I call you bluey**  
  
**Chloe: doesn't really sound right**  
  
**Kelly: I'll make it work :p**  
  
**Chloe: emojis… REALLY**  
  
**Kelly: :D**

 **Chloe: ...**  
  
Chuckling, Max put her phone away and jumped out of the truck, approaching them.  
  
"I can see why you'd be… OW," Nathan yelped as Chloe punched his shoulder hard, glaring.  
  
Suspicious, Max frowned at the older girl, who simply shrugged it off as the pinkette sat down beside them. “Hi, I’m Kelly.”  
  
“Nathan, but you already know that,” he replied in a friendly manner. “So, I hear there’s a fan club of people who hate my father."  
  
"I assume he's not liked much around here then," Max asked cautiously.  
  
Nathan snorted. "Dunno about anyone else to be honest. Club’s at three so far, though my reasons are… complicated,” he mentioned, sounding disgusted and worried.  
  
"He... isn't around, is he?" she asked nervously, mentally crossing her fingers. He probably wouldn’t recognize her but best not to test the theory.  
  
“Hope not. Haven't seen him in nearly five years. Would be happy if that trend continued. I know he has ‘someone’ keeping an eye on me, so I keep my mouth shut about… stuff.” His eyes darted around in mild panic as he finished.  
  
Max felt her body shake as a memory flashed in her mind. Bright lights, the taste of iron, a cheering crowd and a terrified young man.

She scrambled back, muttering, “Holy shit…”  
  
“M… Kelly, what’s wrong?” Chloe called out, crawling in front of her and putting her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders for comfort.  
  
“Chloe… he was there. In the ring. My first fight… he was there,” Max stammered, seriously freaking out now.  
  
It had been a few years since she had seen the boy, the first time in the ring after winning against the man mountain. Honestly, he hadn’t changed much at all. If she’d realized he was Sean Prescott’s son at the time of the fight, she might have pummelled him out of principle… whether he deserved it or not. The jury was still out on that one.  
  
Glancing over at the boy, she managed a chuckle. “Not quite what I imagined a bodybuilder with tats and a missing ear would look like.”  
  
When she said that, the color drain from Nathan’s face, his blue eyes focusing in on Max’s pink ones. A flicker of silent recognition passed between them, both remembering their unfortunate first meeting.  _Tension_ heavy in the air.   
  
“Uh, am I missing something?” Chloe muttered, thoroughly confused by the stare off.  
  
Already on her feet, Max’s body tensed ready to sprint as far away as possible. “Sorry, Chlo. Gotta go. This was a mistake.”  
  
"MAX!" Nathan gasped, causing her to freeze mid-stride.  
  
The pinkette was paralyzed, images flashing in her mind of that night alongside disturbing imaginations of Rachel and Diana, badly beaten and buried. “Fuck, not safe. Gotta go.”  
  
Before she could race off, Chloe grabbed hold of her, hugging from behind. Her blue eyes zeroed in on the blond boy, words steely catching the pinkette off guard. Chloe was angry. “Nathan, you’d better start talking. Now.”  
  
“It’s… you,” Nathan whispered hopefully as he crawled forward.  
  
Finding herself unable to move or speak, her heart raced as she tried to push past her frozen state. She had to get away, FAR away.  
  
His face flooded with relief, snapping Max out of her paralysis. “Oh thank god. Ma… Kelly, please don’t paint me with the same brush as my father. I didn’t even want to be there,” he pleaded, shifting from kneeling to sitting.  
  
Chloe’s eyes went wide, recalling the story from the night before. “Oh my god, you're the guy who…”  
  
Blushing at his weak bladder that night, Nathan blushed lightly and laughed at his own expense. “Yeah, okay… no need for details.”  
  
“Shit, thought you’d made that part up,” the bluenette chuckled, turning to the pinkette.  
  
“Can't blame me,” he defended sheepishly. “I just witnessed her beat up and tear a hulking guy’s ear off. Then, she charges at me covered in blood. So, yeah, I was scared shitless,” he admitted with a slight smile.  
  
"More like scared piss…" Max covered the bluenette’s mouth before she could finish, getting a disgruntled humph in return. No need to add insult to injury.  
  
“Truth is, my dad wanted me in on his ‘business venture’. That was the first and last time I had anything to do with it. Told my dad he made me sick and booked it outta there. Only reason I ain’t got far away is so I can finish up here.” He gestured at the surrounding campus. “You have no reason to trust me, but… I haven’t been able to sleep since that night. You looked fucking possessed – why I’m always high or dosed on sleeping tablets. Your secrets safe with me,” he promised earnestly.  
  
Chloe knelt down beside Max, taking a joint from the pinkette’s pocket and lighting it for her. Shakily, the young girl took the offering, holding the smoke in as she felt the haze start to work. The three sat there in silence, Max’s tremors lessening by the minute.  
  
“So, nothing to do with him?” Max asked, shifting so she was leaning on one hand.  
  
"Not since that night. I ended up staying with a friend for a while before I got a place of my own. About the only good thing my dad did," Nathan sneered in reply as he leaned back. 

Adrenaline still flooding through her system, Max felt herself shake. Such an obvious reminder really set her off. Nathan was about as obvious as one could get. She took several deep breaths, calming herself down as best she could. Not much, but enough to not want to run away... as best as she could in this situation. It wasn't easy, never would be. Something she had and would continue to struggle with.

Perhaps forever. 

Pushing past the fear, she squeezed Chloe's hand. “This might sound forward, but… do you have any useful info? I still got two friends in there I need to get out."  
  
“You probably know more than me,” he replied after giving it some thought. “My father used to disappear every other weekend. Guess that’s not really a mystery, though.” The realization made him shudder.  
  
Chloe frowned, turning to her old friend. “Odd. I thought you fought every three to four weeks.”  
  
“Probably more than one setup,” the pinkette theorized with a sigh. Just how many illegal cage fighting kidnap victims did Sean Prescott have at his ‘command’? She didn’t even want to make a guess.  
  
"Wouldn’t surprise me," Nathan added wearily.

There was definitely something different about him, something Max recognized. The way he carried himself, the aura he exuded... the look in his eyes - sometimes so distant, almost empty. He was a victim of this too, manipulated by his father. He managed to escape just like she had. For that reason, he didn't deserve her hatred, as tempting as it was to give in to the anger.  
  
As the bell rang, Nathan got to his feet with a groan. “I gotta go, but I’ll let you know if I hear anything. And… Kelly, I’m, uh, glad you got out,” he added with an awkward smile before walking off to class.  
  
"Well, that's a relief," Chloe sighed as she leaned back on her hands.  
  
“Yeah,” Max muttered, stubbing out her smoke and slouching against the bluenette’s shoulder. “Might actually relax for a change,” she continued with a smile. _‘No more running. I’m home, safe and I have Chloe.’_ Wondering why her friend hadn’t moved yet, she gave her a nudge. “Not to ruin this but… haven't you got class?”  
  
“Look, I just had the best birthday present in five years. I hella deserve at least one day to enjoy it,” Chloe replied with an excited grin, yanking Max to her feet and dragging her towards the truck.  
  
“I’m not a toy, Chloe,” the pinkette giggle, offering no resistance.  
  
“Hmm… I’ll be the judge of that,” the older girl replied with a playfully suggestive smile, making Max blush lightly.  
  
There was still one secret she wasn’t quite ready to tell Chloe…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Max = Toy
> 
> Peace out


	16. Chloe's Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.
> 
> Sorry it's been a while, But life just enjoys getting in the way, work/family/mild depression, ya know the usual stuff.
> 
> But we (myself and Liv) are trying to get back into the swing of things.
> 
> But enough of that, your here for a pink haired hipster turned hulk right...
> 
> here you go, enjoy

**Chloe’s Wish**

“First stop of the day… FOOD,” Chloe cheered as they pulled into the Two Whales Diner parking lot.  
  
Max eyed up the old Diner as she got out of the truck, an involuntary smile tugging at her lips. “I haven’t been here in years… well, inside.”  
  
“Still the best food in the Bay,” the bluenette chirped as she jumped out too. “And now they do a killer burger… though it's off menu,” she chuckled to herself as they entered the Diner.  
  
The pinkette was hit with a wave of nostalgia. It looked pretty much the same as five years ago, except more run down – a classic American Diner vibe, red color scheme and dusty jukebox.

* * *

_Two young girls sat at a booth, the one they always chose to sit in - the forth to the right as you entered the door. The diner itself was fairly empty; a trucker nursing a coffee at the counter, a young couple sat in the corner smiling at one another, an on-call cop eating breakfast. It was too early in the morning for what the Two Whales classed as a horde._

_Chloe swung her legs, sighing. "Ugh, waiting is so boooooooring. And I'm hungry."_

_Allowing herself a smile, Max sipped at her vanilla milkshake. "Joyce will be back soon."_

_"Not soon enough," the blonde groaned, blue eyes scanning the area for something to entertain her._

_Her focus landed on the retro jukebox pushed against the far right wall. Right now, it was playing some country style music. Her dad loved this kind of thing. Always singing his heart out, even though he often went off key. She always complained, knowing it would make him do it more just to annoy her. Although, she suspected he had caught on and was simply humoring her by this point._

_The young blonde got to her feet, Max curiously watching as she approached the jukebox. Leaning close to check her options, even though she knew them all practically off by heart, she made her choice. An upbeat rocky tune. Excited, she dashed back over to Max and dragged her to her feet, almost knocking over her milkshake._

_"Aaa, Chloe," she squeaked as her friend forced her into the space in front of the jukebox._

_"C'mon, hippie. Dance off."_

_Max was slightly taken aback. "What... here? In the middle of the diner?"_

_The hesitation made Chloe scoff. "Yes. You scared you'll lose?"_

_"No," the brunette replied in a heartbeat, pouting slightly._

_Chloe always knew which buttons to press to get her worked up. It was a skill she had perfected over the years. In fact, nearly all of Max's adventures - or perhaps misadventures was a better term - could be traced back to one of Chloe's wacky ideas._

_A challenging smirk tugged at Chloe's lips. "Then prove it."_

_Unable to back down now, Max's expression turned defiant. "You're on."_

_She was confused when Chloe stood there, not saying anything... and worried when the smirk turned mischievous. "Let's up the stakes. The loser has to do whatever the winner wants."_

_The brunette's face crumpled slightly, deep in thought. It was a gamble. Worth risking. "Bring it, Price."_

_Chloe nodded, cracking her knuckles and wiggling her body like she was loosening up. "Hope you are ready for defeat, Caulfield. Everyone knows I've got the best moves in Arcadia."_

_"You wish," Max chuckled. She wouldn't admit it now, but she did agree._

_Chloe Price was... pretty awesome at most things. Anything she wasn't good at - something she refused to admit herself - Max more than made up for. That was the great thing about their friendship. Not only did they encouraged each other's strengths; they lent their own strength in the face of weakness._

* * *

Max smiled to herself. They never did agree on who won. 

It was pretty quiet, not that the place was ever super busy. Still, Arcadia had become more of a ghost town over the years. A young lad sat with an older man at the breakfast bar chatting amongst themselves. The only other patrons were a young family sat at the far end with two young boys.  
  
“I’ll be right with you girls,” Joyce announced from behind the counter with a smile as Chloe dragged Max to their childhood middle booth.  
  
There was a wolf whistle from behind as they sat down. “Hey, ya after some real fun?”  
  
Giving the young man a strange glance, Max leaned over the table to whisper to Chloe. “Is he talking to us?”  
  
The bluenette’s eyes darted over to the boy, who made no attempt to hide his gaze. Passing a scathing glare his way, making him falter for a split second, she turned to her friend with a teasing smirk. “Think he’s talking to you, actually.”  
  
“Doubt it,” she muttered through a blush, glancing at the gawking lad before ignoring him for good. “Besides, not my type.”  
  
"And what is your type?" Chloe pressed, more than a little curious.  
  
_‘Oh, I dunno. Blue hair and eyes, toned, mean left hook.’_ Instead of relaying her kinda embarrassing thoughts, she shrugged. “Haven’t really thought about it between training, escaping and fighting. You know, everyday things,” she smirked. _‘Yeah right, Pinocchio…’_  
  
“Bullshit. If you’ve figured out enough to realize he ain’t your type, you must have some idea what is,” Chloe scoffed, calling her out. “You can’t tell me that in five hormone crazy years of unsupervised living, you’ve never got even a teensy bit curious.”  
  
“I had other… things on my mind,” Max mumbled with a blush, recalling a particularly embarrassing time she’d ‘interrupted’ Diana and Rachel.  
  
“C’mon, Max,” Chloe pleaded, noting the sudden embarrassment and deploying her failsafe puppy dog eyes. “Promise I won’t judge or anything.”  
  
“Fine, if you’re not gonna let up… I guess I like tall… people,” Max muttered with a nonchalant – or so she hoped – shrug, praying that wouldn’t be enough to totally give her away.  
  
She wasn’t ready to bear her heart and soul in front of the bluenette just yet. Apparently, five years still wasn’t enough mental preparation time. Unfortunately, Chloe could almost always read her mind as kids, call it the powers of best friendship. While she might not know exactly word for word, she always managed to sense more than Max wanted her to.  
  
“So like half the people on the planet. Especially since you’re such a shorty,” Chloe teased playfully, nudging her leg under the table. A wry smirk tugged at her lips, eyebrow raising in amusement. “Buuut… I guess that means I’m in the running, huh?”  
  
The pinkette swallowed, wondering if her childhood friend was onto her or just teasing for the hell of it, like always. They used to be so in sync… Five years apart had thrown the psychic connection off-kilter.  
  
Before she had the chance to get interrogated further, Joyce came over to take their order and chat, giving the rejected guy at the counter an amused glance. "Nice to see you two enjoying yourselves."  
  
"Hi Joyce," Max replied as she tried to hide her blush.  
  
"Can't say I'm surprised to see you here.” The older woman shot her daughter a playful accusatory smile.  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Mom, chill. Kate’s gonna make notes for me and she’ll grab my homework for the rest of the week. AAAND my assignments for the end of the month are already done. It’s all sorted.”  
  
Joyce held up her hands, chuckling. “Alright, it wasn’t a dig, but I’m glad everything’s under control. Now, onto more important matters… what do you girls want to eat?”  
  
After ordering their respective meals, the girls pretty much picked up where they left off. Max quickly learned that Chloe had the lion’s share of experiences, outside fighting anyway. Not all that surprising. The bluenette mentioned her future plans to become a kickboxing teacher, as well as the upcoming qualifiers in Portland this weekend.  
  
“You should so come. Portland is great and you’ll get to see me in action,” Chloe finished with an excited grin as Joyce returned with their food, two plates stacked with pancakes.  
  
Max couldn’t help but grin. It would allow her to find another match of her own but mostly, it meant more time with Chloe. That was something she would never turn down. “Sounds fun. Might even earn some extra cash.”  
  
"You ain't talking about those questionable fights, are you Kelly?" Joyce prodded quietly with her ‘worried mom’ expression.  
  
Max felt herself shrink at the question. “It’s not as bad as it sounds most of the time. Besides, I need money and I’m good at it. Last time, I walked away without a scratch… more or less,” she finished quietly, shoving a forkful of pancake into her mouth.  
  
“Mom, trust me, she can look after herself. Besides, I’ll be with her from not on,” Chloe interjected as she chewed down half a pancake.  
  
“Fine, just… be careful,” the older woman sighed in defeat, disappearing behind the counter.  
  
After finishing up breakfast, Max paid the bill and left a generous tip, making her friend chuckle as they headed out of the Diner. “Mom’s not gonna be happy with you leaving that.”  
  
The pinkette simply shrugged. “Well, if she won’t let me pay rent or for that damn crack in the wall, I’m gonna get creative.”  
  
As they left Max felt Joyce’s disapproving gaze, the young girl turning to stick her tongue out which earned her a reluctant smile. A short while later, they were walking along the mostly deserted beach side by side, reminiscing about their childhood adventures.  
  
“Surprisingly, not much has changed around here,” Max commented as they sat down, leaning against a large rock.  
  
“Other than stores changing hand, that’s about it,” Chloe replied, putting her hands behind her head. “I reckon we’ve changed way more than Arcadia ever will.”  
  
“Definitely,” Max agreed, gazing out over the bay. In the distance was the ever-vigilant lighthouse, high on the cliff. She’d guess it was around noon given the sun’s high position in the cloudless sky, a gentle offshore breeze.  
  
"Do you remember the last time we spoke?" Chloe muttered, her voice sounding distant.  
  
"Yeah, about thirty seconds ago," Max grinned, giving the bluenette a gentle shoulder barge.  
  
"Ha ha, very witty," she replied with an eye roll, returning the shove. "That's not what I meant and you damn well know it, dork.”  
  
The pinkette chuckled, her expression shifting to melancholic. “I remember. It was just before… William’s funeral. We promised we’d stick together forever,” she recalled solemnly. A promise they hadn’t managed to keep for five long years.   
  
When the bluenette didn’t respond, Max turned to see tears roll down her cheeks. _‘Oh, Chloe, please don’t cry...’_ she mentally pleaded, hating this so much.  
  
“That’s… not what I meant either,” she sniffled, guilt flooding through her. “Maybe spoke’s too strong a word, more like a… one-sided shouting match. The day you told me you were leaving for Seattle. I… I told you to fuck off and…”  
  
“…that I was dead to you,” Max finished, tone flat as she recalled the pain. She had been trying to suppress the memory for so long, put it out of her mind. Not easy.  
  
“I fucking regretted ever saying that the second you left, wished so hard that I could take it back. Then you… went missing and… I continued to regret it for the next five years.” Chloe brought her knees to her chin, burying her head into her arms as she sobbed.  
  
“Shit, Chloe…” the pinkette muttered as she shuffled closer to her sobbing friend, wrapping her arms around her. “None of this is your fault.”  
  
“I know, Max,” Chloe managed as she took a shaky breath, not even bothering to use the fake name. Nobody was around to hear, so it didn’t matter. “I’ve known it all along but… all I ever wanted, wished for, was to be able to… say sorry.”  
  
Sighing, Max gave the crying girl a squeeze. “You have nothing to apologize for, Chloe. You were hurting and… I knew you didn’t mean it. You honestly think I would’ve run away from home to come see you otherwise?”  
  
“No, I suppose not…” she conceded with a watery chuckle.  
  
“But I guess if it makes you feel better, apology accepted,” Max added as an afterthought, not wanting to see her cry anymore. Between them, they’d probably cried an ocean.  
  
Wiping the remaining tears away, Chloe gave her a sad smile. “That does actually help, thanks.”  
  
As they sat there, still clinging onto each other like a life raft, Max gave a content sigh. “Happy birthday, Chlo.”


	17. Grading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys'n'gals here's the next one.
> 
> enjoy

**Grading**

Pink eyes fluttered open, met with an all too familiar ceiling. Last night, Max had crashed in Chloe’s room. The pair had binge-watched some of their favorite movies, Blade Runner included of course, and fallen asleep in a heap on the bed. Just like the good old days of after school sleepovers. Well, it felt a little different this time around. Kinda nerve-wracking - with five years’ worth of unresolved feelings floating around and Chloe's tendency to snuggle up as close as humanly possible - but awesome nevertheless.

Finding her jeans, she rummaged around to find her phone. 8:20 A.M. Seeing a string of unread messages from around thirty minutes ago.  
  
**Chloe: Yo, pinky**  
  
**Chloe: gone to the gym**  
  
**Chloe: gotta keep this muscle machine calibrated**  
  
The next message was a picture of the bluenette kissing her toned bicep, which did make Max blush a little… or a lot. Had she sent it with that intention? Knowing Chloe, probably.  
  
**Chloe: be back midday**  
  
**Chloe: you’d better be ready for mischief by then**  
  
“I would've come if you’d woken me, Chloe. I could use a workout,” Max muttered to herself, flexing her injured hand – still a little red, but still holding together and not sore.  
  
Grabbing a shower, she got changed. Chloe had kindly cleared a space in her wardrobe and donated an old suitcase that used to be by the bed filled with junk so she could stash her possessions away. That freed Max’s duffel bag for everyday use.  
  
Deciding on black jeans, a sports bra and her only pink tank top, she shoved some shorts and tape into her bag, grabbing some breakfast on the way out. Zipping up her biker jacket and slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder, she noticed Chloe’s still parked truck in the driveway.  
  
_‘Guess she jogs to the gym.’_ Clambering on her bike, Max shoved her helmet on and pulled out of the driveway. An idea popped into her head as she did, speeding down the street to track down what she was after. A little over an hour later, she pulled up outside the Arcadia Gym and headed inside.  
  
“Hey, Kelly,” David greeted from behind the counter.  
  
“Hi, David,” she replied, rummaging through her duffel bag and taking out two packages. “Mind keeping these behind the counter till later, please?”  
  
“Sure thing.” He relieved her of the packages, stashing them away. “Gonna get some training done?” he asked, motioning over to where Chloe was working over a pair of punch pads with a dark-haired guy in a tracksuit.  
  
“Yeah, but I won’t interfere. Those punch bags have been eyeing me up the wrong way ever since I walked in,” she added with a smirk before heading to the changing rooms.  
  
After changing into her shorts and taking off her tank top, she tapped up her hands and ankles. Finding a free punching bag, she stood in front of it, giving Chloe a sideways glance as she released a barrage of sharp kicks and jabs. The gym clothes really showed off the bluenette’s toned figure, one most could only dream of and envy. Not overdone, though. Max had seen plenty of practically grotesque displays of muscle in her time, mostly steroid induced.  
  
_‘Plenty of time to admire her in the ring this weekend.’_ Before she got too lost in her staring – aka caught red-handed, that would amuse her blue-haired friend to no end – the pinkette focused on the defenseless punching bag dangling in front of her. As she threw well-timed jabs and kicks, she could hear the faint echoes of Diana’s instruction in her mind, making her smile.

Shit... she missed her. Rachel, too. 

“Yo, Kel, think fast,” a mischievous voice called out to her.  
  
Instinctively, Max brought her arm up to block the kick aimed at her head. A blue glove followed, the pinkette ducking under it and sweeping her assailant’s legs out, getting a surprised ‘oof’ and soft thud in response. Crouching, she noticed a head of blue hair. With a sigh, she lowered her guard and stood.  
  
Chloe was flat on her back, grinning like an idiot up at her while her training partner looked on impressed. “Told you she was good.”  
  
“What the hell, Chloe?” she snapped, helping the taller girl up. “I could’ve seriously hurt you.”  
  
“Pfft, gimme _some_ credit, Max Attack. Probably should've put a crash mat there, though,” the bluenette replied, rubbing her ass before motioning towards the tracksuited guy. “This is Terrance, my trainer.”  
  
“Oh, um, pleased to meet you,” the younger girl greeted, offering her hand and a sheepish smile.  
  
“Likewise. Chloe here hasn’t shut up about you all morning.” He passed a sly smile the bluenette’s way, who scowled at him for ratting her out. “What grade are you?”  
  
“About that, she doesn’t have one,” Chloe cut in before she had the chance to answer. “Think you could give her an assessment?”  
  
Max felt put on the spot, realizing she should’ve known it would lead to this. The blue-haired punk was always plotting something. _‘Bet she’ll make it into a competition…’_  
  
Terrance agreed to the plan, setting up a spot to test out her martial art skill. She eyed up the man, suddenly feeling nervous. It was silly really. She’d beaten guys much larger than him to a pulp, but that was in a different world. Another time. With the bluenette watching, she felt the pressure. Like she had to prove herself.  
  
“Chlo, I’m not so sure about this…” she muttered as she reluctantly put Chloe’s gloves on.  
  
Shaking her head, the other girl put her hands firmly on Max’s shoulders and looked her head in the eyes. “It’s no big deal, just another sparring match. Consider it practice. This could be hella awesome, you and me owning the championships. I know you’re at LEAST nearly as good as me,” she added with a wink.  
  
Max managed a smile, imagining them taking the kickboxing world by storm. “It would be pretty awesome teaming up…”  
  
“Well, you don’t have to wait. We got entered into a team tourney but the other member threw a hissy fit after disagreeing with a grading.” Chloe shrugged, pushing Max towards the ring. “Even if he stuck around, I’d still want to team up with my first mate. Now, get that boney white ass in gear and make me proud, sista.”  
  
Preparing herself, Max stood a couple feet in front of Terrance, giving him a bow. He returned the gesture, both circling one another on the balls of their feet, arms up. Almost instantly, he opened up with a few quick warm-up jabs. She knocked the first two away, dodging out of the way of the third to get in position for a snap kick. Blocking the blow aimed for his side, he retaliated with a high back kick. Protectively, Max thrust her arm up to deflect the blow. The impact was harder than expected, crushing her arm between his foot and the side of her head. It caught her off guard, knocking her to the floor.  
  
Chloe shouted something at him them, but Max was too focused on the fight to pay attention. As soon as she could, she flipped onto her feet again and adjusted her stance. Her heart was racing, blood and adrenaline pumping. Again, he attacked with strong jabs. Blocking the first, the pinkette spun out of the way, landing her own punches into his unguarded shoulder and side. As she jumped back, his return kick connected with her midsection, making her let out a sharp gasp. Going on the defensive, she rolled away to get some distance.  
  
_‘Fuck, he’s fast…’_ Unlike most she had fought, this guy knew his stuff.  
  
“C’mon, Kel, don’t hold back!” Chloe cheered encouragingly as she blocked another punch to the head with her palm.  
  
A dull pain shot up her arm as she felt her wound tear, teeth gritting. Terrance followed through with a sharp jumping reverse crescent kick to her head. Unable to block it, Max crouched and threw all her weight behind a dropkick, feet connecting with his lower back. He stumbled towards the ropes, the pinkette rolling away in a low crouch before springing at him again with a simple front kick.  
  
Chloe gasped as he spun around, striking the young girl’s leg mid-kick. His other arm grabbed across her chest, catching her off balance with a swift takedown. Lightly panting, he helped her to her feet. “Hmm, not bad. Sure wasn’t expect that. Where’d you learn to fight?”  
  
“Some friends taught me,” Max explained, mind shifting to Diana and Rachel. “One of them was a black belt in kickboxing, self-taught on other styles. The other… she’d been in enough fights to develop her own unique style. I’m more used to the whole backstreet brawler kinda fight, honestly,” she revealed, taking the water bottle Chloe offered.  
  
“Can’t wait to see you in action this weekend, Rockstar,” Chloe beamed.  
  
"You have a match this weekend?" Terrance asked in surprise.  
  
Max gave a shrug as she sipped her water. "If I can find one. It's usually easy money, and it lets me cut loose.”  
  
“Ah, I see…” Terrance managed, face scrunching up in mild disapproval. “I know a couple places, bit barbaric. Not like I can preach, though. Used to do a little myself. I can help you find a decent-ish one, if you want.”  
  
Sitting on a bench at the side, David helped get Max’s hand fixed up again. Unable to avoid an explanation, the pinkette briefly summarized the junkyard brawl for Terrance, minus the knife to Chloe’s throat. In return, he explained how the team tournaments worked.  
  
A minimum of two fighters per team, each would have a one vs. one match. The team who won the most matches progressed to the next round. In the case of a tie-breaker, the first two combatants would rematch, provided they were able. If not, it moved to the second pairing. To qualify, the team had to win two out of three bouts – the first this weekend with the second the following one. If they didn’t have a team of two by then and won both qualifiers, Chloe would enter the singles tournament.  
  
“Kelly, I’d like to have you as Chloe’s partner, for training at least. I’d be comfortable saying your around brown belt level at least,” he estimated, handing her some forms before heading to the changing rooms. “Fill these in, if you’re interested. No pressure, though.”  
  
“I knew you’d be good enough. This is gonna be EPIC,” Chloe grinned with excitement.  
  
Looking over the forms, Max found them simple enough. Pretty standard stuff. There was only one problem. “Chlo… I really want to do this, but… as ME, not Kelly. The second I get this shit sorted out, you can count me in. Until then… I’ll still come to all your matches and train with you, promise.”  
  
Disheartened, Chloe shrugged. “I get it. No need to explain it to me. C’mon, let’s get changed and bounce.”  
  
Showered and dressed, the pinkette waited at the front desk, chatting with David and Terrance while waiting for Chloe. All this was a dream come true for her, one she had been waiting five long years to cash in on. Being around Chloe again, that was more than enough to keep her happy.  
  
“You guys talking about me?” the bluenette asked with a smirk as she came up behind them. Smiling, David retrieved the packages Max gave him earlier and handed them to a confused Chloe. “What are these?”  
  
“Happy birthday, Chloe,” Max said, grinning.  
  
The blue-haired punk gave her a mock scowl. “My birthday was three days ago. Besides, already had my birthday present, REMEMBER?”  
  
“Just shut up and open it, dork,” the younger girl shot back playfully.  
  
Shrugging, Chloe tore into the wrapping, eyes going wide with glee as she pulled out a black and white leather biker jacket with a skull stitched on the back. “Whoa, this is badass!” she exclaimed gleefully, slipping it on before crushing Max with a hug. “I love it, thanks.”  
  
“That’s only part of it.” Feigning suffocation, the pinkette pointed to the unopened package. Letting her go, Chloe unwrapped it, revealing a matching helmet and pair of gloves. “And I’ve already arranged stuff with Terrance for this weekend. He’s gonna take your stuff up to Portland so I can, uh, give you a lift,” she finished shyly, feeling her cheeks go red.  
  
Luckily, they were all too enthralled by Chloe’s present to notice, much to her relief. She’d let the bluenette know her true feelings eventually. At a better time, when she didn’t have shit to focus on. Max didn’t want to throw her off her game with an untimely confession. For now, this was enough.  
  
Leaving the gym, the two girls approached the bike. “Mind if we swing by Blackwell? I gotta pick up work from Kate.”  
  
“Sure thing,” Max replied as she got the engine going, tapping the space behind her. “Hop on.”  
  
“Uh, so I just… hold on, right?” she asked hesitantly, snaking her arm around the pinkette’s waist as she sat behind.  
  
“Pretty much,” the younger girl confirmed, thankful for the helmet now hiding her blush.  
  
She hit the throttle, the bike roaring into action accompanied by Chloe’s gleeful howls of delight. Once at Blackwell, they crossed campus towards the dorm building, helmets in hand. Other students loitered – a group of girls by the fountain and some skaters by the steps near the bus stop.  
  
A brown-haired guy waved as they approached. “Hey, Chloe and her pink-haired friend.”  
  
“S’up guys, this is Kelly. That’s Warren and Brooke,” Chloe introduced, indicating the guy and a dark-haired girl sat next to him on a tablet.  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Max said cheerily, getting a nod from the girl.  
  
“Where you been all week, Chloe?” Warren asked, leaning back on the wall and putting an arm around Brooke.  
  
“Been catching up with Kel. Not seen her in years and she came back for my birthday. So, I’ve just been enjoying my present,” Chloe explained, pulling Max in for a dramatic side arm hug.  
  
“Thought I said I wasn’t a toy,” Max chuckled, rolling her eyes.  
  
“Oh hush, you,” Chloe retorted playfully. “Can’t stop. Gotta grab stuff off Kate then bounce. Trip up to Portland tomorrow.”  
  
“Almost forgot your match on Sunday,” he replied with a grin.  
  
Chloe returned his grin with her own smirk as she patted the pinkette firmly on the back. “Kel’s got one too. Why, you coming?”  
  
“Yeah, can make a weekend of it. Okay if I bring Brooke?” he asked, giving the engrossed girl a gentle hug.  
  
“Huh, wassat?” Brooke mumbled, tapping her pad before glancing up. “Oh, hi Chloe and… friend?” Her uncertainty made the others laugh. “What…? Oh, I spaced out again, didn’t I?”  
  
“No worries, babe. We’re used to you zoning out. This is Kelly, by the way,” Warren added with a snicker.  
  
"I should explain these two are the embodiment of geekery. Warren's all science, maybe even as smart as me.” He rolled his eyes at her, suppressing a smile. “Brooke here’s into anything techy. Take Exhibit A.” The bluenette pointed to a small drone whizzing towards them.  
  
“It’s not just tech. It’s great for aerial shots, too,” the girl responded as she tapped at her pad. After getting caught up, she agreed to the Portland trip.  
  
Saying their goodbyes, Chloe led Max into the dorm where they bumped into a blonde girl. "Hey Chloe, missed your ass in classes this week."  
  
"Hi, Julz. Yeah, been hanging with Kelly here. Sorry, but I'm in a bit of a rush. I'll catch up with ya later," Chloe replied, giving the girl a wave.  
  
“Sure, good luck on Saturday,” the blonde replied, disappearing into her room.  
  
“That was Juliet, writes for the school paper. Bit of a snoop but she’s a good friend,” the bluenette clarified as she knocked on Kate’s door.  
  
“You seem popular,” Max observed matter-of-factly.  
  
“Well, that happens when the kick the shit outta jocks who harass your friends,” Chloe added nonchalantly as she heard Kate invite them inside.  
  
The pinkette shook her head. “I sense a story.”  
  
“Yup, Juliet’s already got it,” the blue-haired punk mentioned as they entered the room. “Hey, Kate.”  
  
A short blonde with her hair tied back into a bun smiled when she saw them both. “Hi, Chloe and Kelly.” At the confused expression, she smiled and gave the pinkette a hug. “Chloe’s already described you. Sure wasn’t kidding about the eyes.”  
  
“When have I ever lied to you, Kate,” Chloe objected, feigning offense.  
  
That made the petite blonde roll her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. About a million times. Like the time you swapped my chamomile tea for regular. Kept me up half the night.” Chloe looked like she might protest but was shut down instantly. “And before you claim it was a mistake again, the packets were totally different colors.”  
  
The three of them sat around, drinking tea as Kate went over the work Chloe had missed. In the meantime, Max snooped through a sketchbook filled with doodles. “These are really good, Kate. All I can do is punch things.”  
  
“So, you do the same as Chloe?” Kate asked, a little concerned.  
  
“Only in the ring and to defend friends. I don’t go looking for a fight,” Max reassured.  
  
“To each their own, I suppose,” she shrugged, producing another set of paper which made Chloe groan.  
  
“Kate… you’re killing me here,” the bluenette whined.  
  
“You do want my help, right?” Kate shot back playfully, making a grab for the papers.  
  
Knocking the blonde’s hand away, Chloe smirked. “No, no, I’ll survive.”  
  
Saying their goodbyes, they returned to Max’s bike. Most students had dispersed now, except the skater kids.  
  
“So, what now?” the older girl asked, adjusting the straps on the duffel bag.  
  
“Well, you’ve got homework to do. Maybe just chill out, listen to music, maybe watch a film later,” Max suggested, tugging her helmet on.  
  
“Got plenty of time to do that,” Chloe protested, getting ready for the journey back.  
  
“Oh sure, between all the driving and fighting there will be plenty of time,” the pinkette added sarcastically.  
  
“Yeesh, you’re worse than Kate, dude. Damn slave drivers,” the bluenette shot back, holding up her hands and sticking her tongue out.  
  
“You’d love Diana then,” Max chuckled, kicking the bike to life.

Chloe and Diana would make an impossible duo to cope with, and that wasn't even factoring Rachel into the equation. Maybe one day she'd be able to find out for herself. She could only hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see we don't always do cliffhangers :P
> 
> On a side note, there may be a new chapter for another fic commin soon, so keep an eye out for that :D

**Author's Note:**

> Comments etc welcome as always :)
> 
> Till next week
> 
> Peace out


End file.
